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THE 


AUROEAPHONE 


^  ^onxnnce 


CYRUS  COLE 


CllICAGO 

CHARLES  II.  KERR  &  COMPANY 

175  Dearborn  Street 

1890 


Copyright,  1890. 
By  Cyrus  Colk. 


AVhat  tonic  can  be  more  inspiriting  and  licallli 
ful  than  an  adventure?    It  gives  back  to  tlie  blood 
all  its  youth. — Emerson. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  perhaps  to  bo  regretted  that  the  Aurora- 
phone  was  not  discovered  by  men  of  mature  years 
rather  tlian  by  mere  boys,  whose  inexperience  and 
facetiousness  are  apt  to  detract  from  the  dignity, 
and  possibly  lead  us  to  undervalue  the  importance, 
of  its  revelations.  Youth  necessarily  imparts  to  its 
narrations  some  of  its  own  buoyancy  of  spirits,  and 
concerns  itself  but  little  with  the  fitness  of  things. 
It  was  the  realization  of  this  that  prompted  Mr. 
Karbun  to  turn  his  manuscript  over  to  me  with  the 
request  that  I  ''tone  it  down  and  sober  it  up  some- 
what.'' After  reading  it  I  could  but  feel  that  he  was 
wise  in  this,  and  the  heaviness  of  heart  that  op- 
presses the  conscientious  expurgator  of  another's 
manuscript  seized  upon  me.  Then  came  the  thought 
that  as  nature  had  delegated  to  boys  the  discovery 
of  the  wonderful  instrument  it  was  more  fitting  that 
one  of  their  number  should  write  the  history  in  his 
own  way,  and  instead  of  expunging  I  supply  this 
preface. 

1    trust    that  the  trivial  nature  of  the  incidents 


(J  PREFACE. 

attending  the  discovery  of  the  Auroraplione  and  its 
subsequent  revelations  will  in  no  wise  militate 
against  the  true  import  of  the  latter.  While  the 
(  reetan  philosophy,  as  presented  by  the  two  func- 
tionaries of  that  progressive  people,  may  be  barren 
of  literary  grace,  deficient  in  details  and  wa.ntin,ii:  in 
l).T8picuity,  yet  time  may  prove  that  in  justice, 
vharity  and  humanity  it  leads  the  world. 

CYRUS  COLE. 

Garden  City,  Kansas, 
July  14,  1890. 


OOI^TENTS. 


BOOK  I. 

THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  BEDFORD. 

I.    The  TTkjhwaymen 1^ 

IT.     BuKiEi)  Theast're 3'^> 

III.  The  Lovehs'  Spuinc ^3 

IV.  The  Fiust  Messacje "i^ 

V.    The  Dummies'  Revolt 11-^ 


BOOK  11. 

TEN   YEARS  LA2ER. 

VI.    Pleasant  Reunions 147 

VII.    Evolution  and  Sentiment       ....  177 

VIII.    A  Fortunate  Escape 200 

IX.    The  Last  Message 219 

X.    A  SrnsTAXTiAL  Apparition 240 

XI.    "Happily  Ever  After"' 244 


BOOK  I 

THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  BEDFORD 


THE  AURORAPHONE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    HIGHWAYMEN. 

See  Naples  and  die !  No ;  it  m  not  the  incidents  of 
a  voyage  to  Naples  that  I  am  about  to  chronicle. 
Hectic  fevers  were  responsible  for  my  queer  hallucina- 
tion that  the  modern  prescription,  "  8ee  the  Rocky 
Mountains  and  live,"  was  far  more  pertinent  than  the 
musty  aphorism  of  the  Neapolitan  boomers.  For  a 
year.  Death,  with  his  usual  want  of  discrimination, 
had  been  hinting  that  I  was  a  mark  too  dazzlingly 
conspicuous  to  escape  his  icy  shafts.  But  I  fled  to 
Colorado's  salubrious  climate— that  region  of  ozone, 
mountain  streams  and  cloudless  skies  which  has  re- 
peatedly proved  that  the  much-vaunted  connoisseur 
in  shining  marks  is  an  arrant  humbug  after  all. 
Many  a  precocious  young  man  wooed  by  the  dark 
angel  has  found  refuge  in  the  Centennial  State,  where 
he  lives  a  life  in  no  wise  distinguishable  from  the  com- 
mon herd,  and  just  as  happy  and  contented  as  if  he 
had  died  young,  regretted  as  an  irreparable  loss  to 
the  world. 

In  tlie  summer  of  188—  I  was  living  at  Colorado 
Springs,  dividing  pleasure  and  profit,— the  pleasure  of 


12  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

regaining  my  health  amidst  such  grand  scenes,  my 
own;  the  profit,  landlords'  and  liverymen's.  Going 
to  the  post-office  one  June  morning,  the  postal 
deity  that  presided  over  the  window  bearing  the 
beautiful  legend,  <'A  to  K,"  greeted  me  with  a 
smile  which,  had  it  expanded  a  bit  more,  would 
have  meant  registered  letter;  but  it  stopped  at 
ordinary  letter,  and  he  handed  me  one,  the  super- 
scription of  which  at  once  carried  me  back  to  the 
old  home  in  Iowa.  To  my  surprise,  however,  the 
post-mark  read  ''Las  Animas,  CoJo."  It  proved  to 
be  from  my  cousin  Melvin  S.,  and  informed  me  that 
he  and  one  of  my  old  school-mates,  James  B.,  were 
en  route  with  wagon  and  team  for  the  Springs.  I  was 
ordered  to  be  in  readiness  to  take  passage  in  the 
prairie  schooner  Bedford  and  accompany  them  on  a 
trip  through  the  mountains.  A  week  later  they  made 
port,  and  laying  in  some  additional  supplies  we  bore 
southwest  toward  Caiion  City.  Our  objective  point 
was  Wagon  Wheel  Gap,  a  beautiful  mountain  resort 
far  up  toward  the  head-waters  of  the  Rio  Grande. 

My  kinsman  and  friend  were  pedagogues,  whom 
the  worry  and  confinement  of  teaching  had  worn 
down  to  bundles  of  shattered  nerves,  and  a  summer's 
"roughing  it"  was  to  tone  them  up  and  fit  them  for 
their  preceptorial  duties  the  coming  winter.  They 
bad  driven  through  from  Iowa  and  were  already 
somewhat  improved  in  health,  and  decidedly  sun- 
burned and  weather-beaten  in  appearance. 

Mr.  B.,or  Jim,  as  I  shall  call  him,  owned  the  outfit, 
— a  handsome  pair  of  mules,  a  new  wagon  with  good 


'IHE  HIGH  WA  YMEN.  13 

cover,  and  all  the  conveniences  for  camping  out.  The 
tool-box  bolted  on  the  front  end  of  tlie  wagon  con- 
tained a  saw,  hatchet,  nails,  brace  and  bits,  monkey- 
wrench,  ball  of  heavy  twine,  and  many  other  things, 
showing  that  the  school-master's  tool-box  was  but 
an  evolution  of  the  school-boy's  pocket.  A  box  in 
the  rear  end  of  the  wagon  was  so  arranged  that  the 
lid  turned  down,  making  a  table,  while  in  the  various 
compartments  of  the  box  were  stored  our  provisions 
and  dishes.  Two  small  boxes,  one  fastened  on  each 
side  of  the  wagon,  held  our  cooking  utensils.  Thus 
the  interior  of  our  schooner  was  reserved  for  an  ele- 
gant salon  by  day  and  a  luxurious  state-room  by 
night. 

We  differed,  perhaps,  from  any  other  tourists  who 
have  made  a  wagon  journey  through  the  mountains, 
in  that  we  had  no  fire-arms.  We  were  not  hunters, 
and  contended  that  any  one  who  attended  strictly  to 
his  own  business  had  no  need  of  weapons  even  in  the 
wild  West.  About  a  year  previous  to  our  trip,  a 
friend  in  the  East  had  sent  me  an  account  against  a 
man  living  in  the  Springs,  and  with  consummate 
shrewdness  I  had  induced  the  debtor  to  give  me  a 
revolver  and  two  boxes  of  cartridges  for  the  bad  debt, 
but  had  subsequently  loaned  the  revolver  and  one 
box  of  the  cartridges  to  a  party  who  never  returned 
them.  However,  I  had  one  box  of  the  cartridges,  which 
I  retained  as  my  fee  for  collecting  the  bill,  and  by 
mere  chance  they  were  now  in  my  valise,  which  was 
fraternizing  with  those  of  my  comrades  under  the 
spring  seat  in  the  front  end  of  the  wagon.    In  lieu  of 


14  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

fire-arms  we  had  a  volume  of  poems,  a  text-book  on 
Engli8h  Literature,  a  Bible,  and  Spencer's *First  Prin- 
ciples. We  were  three  young,  inexperienced,  inoffen- 
sive sight-seers,  doing  the  mountains  for  pleasure  and 
health. 

Our  first  stop  was  for  dinner  at  the  mouth  of  Dead 
Man's  Canon,  about  thirteen  miles  south  of  the 
Springs.  A  dead  man,  supposed  to  have  been  mur- 
dered, had  been  found  in  the  canon,  and  so  gave  rise 
to  its  lugubrious  name.  Near  the  scene  of  the  trag- 
edy was  an  old  house  which  still  bore  witness  to  the 
bloody  deed  in  many  uncanny  manifestations.  It 
happened  that  1  had  been  boarding  with  a  Mr.  S.,  who 
from  actual  experience  could  vouch  for  the  fact  that 
the  house  was  infested  with  ghosts.  Mr.  S.  had  done 
considerable  teaming  between  the  Springs  and  Canon 
City,  and  passed  the  house  every  few  days.  On  one 
trip  he  and  a  fellow-teamster  had  concluded  to  camp 
at  the  haunted  house,  sleep  within  its  ghostly  pre- 
cincts and  see  if  there  was  any  truth  in  the  rumors 
afloat  concerning  its  nocturnal  visitants  from  the 
spiritual  world.  At  the  time  of  retiring  they  had 
spread  their  blankets  on  the  i-ough  floor  of  the  one 
room,  brought  in  their  harnesses,  hanging  them  up 
on  an  old  gun-rack  made  of  deer's  horns,  shut  and 
barred  the  doors  and  lain  down  with  their  clothes  on, 
with  no  other  thought  than  that  they  should  enjoy 
uninterrupted  repose  till  morning.  They  had  just 
fallen  into  their  first  sleep  when  the  harnesses  were 
dashed  violently  to  the  floor  and  the  doors  flew  open, 
and  closed  with  a  loud  crash.    The  two  men  sprang 


THE  HIGHWAYMEN.  15 

up,  but  found  nothing  of  the  ghost.  The  doors  were 
found  closed  and  barred  just  as  they  had  left  them. 
They  made  a  careful  search  of  the  premises  inside  and 
out,  but  still  the  ghost  eluded  them.  They  hung  up 
the  harnesses,  again  fastened  the  doors,  and  lay  down 
determined  they  would  not  be  caught  napping  this 
time.  Half  an  hour  later,  while  both  men  were  wide 
awake  and  keenly  alert,  the  same  things  occurred. 
Badly  frightened,  they  quickly  harnessed  their  teams, 
hitched  up  and  drove  on  a  few  miles  and  camped  for 
the  remainder  of  the  night. 

To  boys  whose  ages  ranged  from  eighteen  to 
twenty,  here  was  presented  the  chance  of  a  lifetime. 
It  came  out,  after  I  told  the  story,  that  we  had  all 
been  longing  to  investigate  in  person  a  genuinel^^ 
haunted  house.  Dinner  over,  we  entered  the  sepul- 
chral shades  of  the  canon  and  drove  toward  the 
ghost's  habitation,  and  when  we  arrived  there— jour- 
neyed on  without  delay.  Considering  the  state  of  our 
nerves,  it  was,  perhaps,  the  wisest  thing  to  do. 

Two  miles  further  and  we  emerged  from  the 
gloomy  canon  into  a  park  of  gently  rolling  prairie, 
environed  by  shadowy  mountain  chains.  It  was 
coming  out  of  the  dark  and  narrow  home  of  the 
dead,  where  chill  and  gruesome  specters  terrify,  into 
the  bright  and  happy  better-land.  The  afternoon  was 
delightful.  There  was  that  soft,  hazy  condition  of  the 
atmosphere  which  tones  down  the  rugged  outlines  of 
distant  mountains,  blending  them  into  pictures  of 
such  exquisite  beauty  and  mystic  coloring,  that  we 
easily  imagined  we  were  approaching  the  Delectable 


IG  THE  ArnoRArHOXE. 

Mountains.  Tho  fancy  merged  into  certainty  as 
luminous  masses,  "with  purple  mist  obscured,"  pres- 
ently resolved  themselves  into  magnificent  structures 
which  the  mir.-igo  surrounded  with  waving  foliaiic  and 
sparkling  pools,  and  we  soon  fell  to  speculating  as  to 
which  of  the  stately,  shimmering  mansions,  seen 
vista-like  through  the  engirdling  hills,  were  being  pre- 
pared for  our  reception. 

For  two  days  we  wended  our  way  through  these 
semi-celestial  scenes  which  rather  incongi'uously  ter- 
minate in  the  Canon  City  oil  fields.  Driving  through 
Canon  City,  we  had  our  choice  of  crossing  the  Arkansas 
on  the  "condemned''  bridge  that  then  spanned  the 
river,  or  fording  it.  We  preferred  the  latter,  though  it 
seemed  risky  to  drive  into  the  noisy,  foaming  torrent. 
The  danger  was  more  apparent  than  real,  for  wliile 
the  wild  waters  played  all  sorts  of  pranks,  they  did  no 
actual  harm.  Occasionally  a  frolicsome  current 
would  strike  our  mules  and  try  to  sweej)  their  legs 
from  under  them,  l)ut  would  dart  awaj^  with  a  gur- 
gling titter  just  in  time  to  escape  the  lunges  they  made 
to  recover  their  equilibrium.  Then  a  more  mis(;hiev- 
ous  wave  would  swing  our  schooner  against  a  rock, 
shaking  licr  up  from  stem  to  stern,  and,  rejoicing  at 
our  trepidation,  rush  on  with  a  boisterous  laugh, 
while  numerous  other  eddies  and  swirls  would  hurry 
off  to  the  ncigliboring  rocks  fairly  frothing  over  with 
merriment  as  they  told  the  joke.  Rollicking,  singing, 
and  laughing,  the  happy  waters  go,  a  little  wild  and 
turbulent  now,  but  soon  to  settle  down  into  the  quiet 
channels  of  business  life  in  the  irrigated  districts  of 


THbJ  HIGHWAYMEN.  17 

Western  Kansas.  As  we  drove  out,  the  brightened 
wheels  scattered  showers  of  diamonds,  which  gHstened 
like  trne  brilliants  in  the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 
We  struck  camp  for  tlie  night  near  the  river. 

The  following  day  found  us  threading  the  mazes  of 
Oak  Creek  Canon,  greeted  at  every  turn  by  new  and 
fantastic  formations  of  gray  rock  and  red  sand-stone. 
That  night  we  camped  in  the  vicinity  of  Silver  Cliff, 
and  the  next  day  and  night  were  spent  at  this  mining 
camp.  Here  we  were  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of 
shafting,  blasting,  leads,  ''big  finds,"  "pay  dirt," 
and  "grub  stakes."  The  Bull  Domingo  mine  was  at 
that  time  in  possession  of  an  armed  force,  and 
another  party  of  men  was  arming  preparatory  to 
contesting  the  rights  of  ownership.  War  and  fighting, 
seasoned  with  bloody  combats  and  hand-to-hand  en- 
counters, were  the  popular  themes,  and  the  stories  of 
thrilling  adventures  with  horse-thieves  and  road- 
agents  we  heard,  filled  us  with  admiration  for  the 
daring  and  prowess  of  the  stalwart  miners.  We 
learned  especially  of  the  frightful  depredations  that 
were  being  committed  by  a  band  of  horse-thieves  who 
had  their  rendezvous  in  the  Sangre  de  Cristo  range 
of  mountains  which  we  must  cross  at  Mosco  Pass.  We 
were  given  much  good  advice  and  many  serious  ad- 
monitions to  be  very  watchful  of  our  team.  With 
numerous  warm  hand-shakes  and  expressions  of  good 
will  from  the  big-hearted,  friendly  miners,  we  departed 
on  the  morning  of  the  memorable  1st  of  July. 

Our  stay  at  Silver  Cliff  had  not  on  the  whole  had 
a  tonic  effect  on  our  nerves,  and  we  lost  many  of  the 


18  THE  AURORA  PHONE. 

boniitios  of  "Wet  Mmnitaiii  Valley  in  our  growin«2,-  fears 
of  horae-thieves.  lu  our  hurry  to  got  beyond  the 
mountains  we  did  not  stop,  as  usual,  for  dinner,  and 
a  little  after  noon,  with  longnig  looks  backward  at 
the  peaceful,  happy  valley,  we  began  the  ascent  of  the 
pass.  An  hour's  drive  brought  us  to  the  summit, 
and  far  away,  over  intervening  hills,  we  could  see  por- 
tions of  the  San  Luis  Valley.  But  we  had  the  descent 
yet  to  make  before  we  should  reach  the  haven  of 
safety.  When  about  one-third  the  way  down,  there 
burst  upon  our  view  a  wonderful  scene  —  a  scene  im- 
pressive and  grotesque  rather  than  grand.  The 
principal  feature  was  a  chain  of  stupendous  sand 
liillti— The  Great  Sand  Dunes,  they  are  called  — extend- 
ing from  the  foot  of  the  mountains  far  out  into  the 
valley.  These  sand  hills  are  different  from  any  others 
I  have  seen  in  the  West.  They  are  composed  of  fine 
glittering  sand  which  curls  and  glistens  like  little  rip- 
pling waves  with  every  breeze.  A  stronger  wind 
gathers  up  multitudes  of  the  gleaming  particles  into 
a  luminous  cloud,  which  rolls  along  catching  the  sun- 
light, now  and  then  flashing  out  golden  and  purple 
tints,  the  gorgeousness  of  which  fairly  dazzles  the  be- 
holder. The  moving  shadows  that  play  in  the  deep 
valleys  and  around  the  sharp  peaks,  as  the  cloud  is 
carried  across  the  hills,  heighten  the  effect  into  some- 
thing altogether  novel  and  enchanting.  Then  the 
wind  lulls,  the  cloud  settles,  and  the  huge,  uncouth 
peaks  throw  monster  shadows  on  the  yellow  sand, 
weird  and  startling  in  the  extreme.  Changing  their 
forms  at  the  caprice  of  the  winds,  these  hills  never 


THE  HIGHWAYMEN.  19 

present-  the  same  appeai'ance  for  any  length  of  time, 
but  constantly  wreathe  and  twine  themselves  into 
ever-varying  and  unique  shapes. 

While  we  greatly  enjoyed  these  quaint  scenes,  there 
had  nevertheless  come  over  us  a  feeling  of  depression, 
which  on  comparing  notes  developed  into  a  well  de- 
fined presentiment  of  impending  danger.  However, 
we  made  the  descent  without  serious  interruption. 
Near  the  foot  of  the  mountain  we  came  to  a  toll-gate, 
the  keeper  of  which  was  anything  but  prepossessing 
in  appearance.  In  answer  to  our  inquiries  about 
the  route,  he  informed  us  that  it  was  sixty  miles  to 
Del  Norte,  that  the  stream  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
further  on  was  the  only  water  for  many  miles,  and 
that  the  country  was  a  sandy  sage-brush  plain 
through  which  we  would  have  much  difficulty  in  keep- 
ing the  road.  Paying  the  toll  fee  we  drove  on  to  the 
stream,  a  broad  shallow  river,  but  did  not  cross,  a8 
the  road  turned  and  ran  parallel  with  it  as  far  as  we 
could  see.  The  water,  however,  all  sank  into  the  sand 
a  little  wa}^  below  us.  As  we  were  compelled  to  camp 
in  this  vicinity,  the  level,  grassy  plain  in  which  we 
found  ourselves  seemed  providential.  Driving  up  the 
stream  fifty  yards  we  turned  the  wagon  facing  the 
river  and  camped  for  the  night,  though  the  sun  was 
yet  an  hour  high. 

Just  as  we  got  our  mules  tethered,  a  party  of  four 
men  wath  wagon  and  team  drove  down  to  the  stream, 
watered  their  horses,  talked  awhile  in  low  tones  and 
then  drove  down  the  road  fifty  yards  and  camped. 

The  new-comers  wore  broad-brimmed  white  hats, 


20  77//-;  ArnoUAPHONE. 

blue  flannel  shirts,  corduroy  trowsers,  and  top  boots. 
They  were  dirt-begrimed  and  weather-beaten,  and  al- 
together a  hard  looking  lot.  They  drove  a  splendid 
pair  of  bays,  much  finer  horseflesh,  indeed,  than  men 
of  their  ilk  would  come  by  honestly.  Their  camping 
there  we  surmised  was  all  a  sham  — part  of  a  well  laid 
plan  to  get  Jim's  mules.  They  would  probably  rob 
us  of  our  few  personal  effects,  and  no  doubt  their 
motto  was  that  dead  men  tell  no  tales.  We  thought 
seriously  of  pushing  on  immediately  at  the  risk  of 
getting  lost  and  perishing  miserably  in  the  desert. 
But  even  if  we  resumed  our  journey  we  could  not  es- 
cape them,  nor  would  it  help  the  matter  any  to  turn 
back;  indeed,  it  would  better  suit  their  purpose  to 
catch  us  in  the  deep  solitudes  of  the  desert  or  the 
lonely  wilds  of  the  mountain  pass. 

Our  neighbors  were  soon  busy  making  prepara- 
tions for  supper,  and  there  was  nothing  for  us  to  do 
but  to  follow  their  example.  Among  our  stores  were 
some  canned  pears  and  cherries  which  we  thought 
were  extremely  fine,  and  much  on  the  same  principle 
that  the  boy  says  to  the  big  dog  he  fears  is  going  to 
eat  him  up,  "Poor  doggie,"  we  now  concluded  to 
take  two  cans  of  the  fruit  and  offer  it  to  our  fellow- 
campers.  Intent  on  this  gastronomic  peace-mission 
we  all  started  over,  but  to  our  mortification  and 
alarm  the  four  men  quickly  laid  down  their  cooking 
implements  and  deliberately  picked  up  two  Winches- 
ter rifles,  and  as  many  Smith  &  Wesson  revolvers, 
which  we  had  not  before  seen,  and  sauntered  off  down 
toward  the  stream.     In  the  face  of  such  a  rebuff  we 


THE  HIGHWA  YMEN.  21 

could  but  return,  burdened  with  greater  apprehen- 
sions than  ever.  While  we  had  suspected  that  they 
were  armed,  yet  tliis  abrupt  discovery  of  the  fact 
was  anything  but  pleasant. 

We  now  deeply  regretted  tliat  we  had  not  provided 
ourselves  with  arms.  It  was  even  mentioned  as  an 
unaccountable  oversight  that  we  had  not  procured  a 
small  cannon,  or,  for  that  matter,  a  large  one  would 
not  have  come  amiss.  But  unfortunately  we  had  not, 
and  if  anything  was  to  be  done  it  must  be  through 
strategy.  I  had  been  thinking  about  my  cartridges 
and  I  now  suggested  that  we  devise  some  means  of 
firing  off  a  few  of  them,  and  so  make  the  enemy  think 
we  were  also  armed.  We  fixed  upon  a  plan  and  im- 
mediately set  about  to  put  it  into  execution. 

The  wagons  stood  parallel  with  each  other  about 
one  hundred  yards  apart.  By  working  on  the  far  side 
of  our  wagon  our  movements  would  be  practically 
hidden  from  the  horse-thieves.  From  our  California 
brake  we  took  the  rubbers,  two  pieces  of  hard  wood, 
ten  inches  long,  four  wide  and  two  thick,  and  with 
the  brace  and  bit  of  the  proper  size  bored  three  holes 
through  one  of  the  pieces.  These  three  holes,  about 
one-half  inch  apart,  held  the  cartridges,  which  were 
center  fire.  Through  the  other  piece  of  wood  were 
bored  three  small  holes  so  as  to  strike  the  centers  of 
the  first  three  holes  when  the  two  rubbers  were  prop- 
erly adjusted.  Putting  in  three  cartridges  the  rubbers 
were  bound  tightly  together  with  baling  wire,  a  sharp 
pointed  nail  was  inserted  in  one  of  the  small  holes  to 
receive  the  blow  from  the  hatchet,  and  our  battery  of 


22  THE  ArnORAPHONE. 

three  pieces  was  completed.  It  was  then  bound  se- 
curely to  the  rear  wheel  and  standard  of  the  wagon 
with  baling  wire.  We  next  fixed  up  a  target.  Two 
sticks,  one  five,  the  other  three  feet  in  length,  and 
both  about  two  inches  in  diameter,  and  the  ball  of 
twine,  furnished  the  material.  The  shorter  stick  with 
the  twine  tied  to  the  lower  end  of  it  was  the  trigger  or 
brace  to  support  the  other  stick,  the  target  proper. 
Mel  took  the  two  sticks,  and  letting  the  ends  drag  in 
the  grass  so  as  to  conceal  the  string,  went  out  about 
one  hundred  yards  to  the  rear  of  the  wagon.  I  was 
l^ing  down  in  tlie  grass  and  paid  out  the  twine.  Mel 
leaned  the  target  against  the  brace,  then  came  back 
and  took  a  position  as  if  to  shoot,  nothing  but  his 
legs  being  visible  to  those  on  the  opposite  side  of  our 
wagon.  Jim,  hatchet  in  hand,  acted  as  gunner.  The 
critical  moment  had  arrived. 

Ready. 

The  gunner  hit  the  nail. 

Bang ! 

I  had  jerked  the  string  as  Jim  made  the  stroke  and 
the  target  went  down  beautifully.  Everything  worked 
to  a  charm. 

I  now  went  out  and  set  up  tlie  target.  Mel,  in  the 
meantime,  had  lain  down  near  the  string.  I  took  the 
marksman's  position  this  time.  Again  the  battery 
spoke,  and  the  target  went  down  as  before.  I  then  re- 
lieved the  gunner  and  he  was  the  next  marksman, 
proving  himself  as  good  a  shot  as  either  of  us. 

The  target  was  then  taken  out  mucli  farther,  the 
battery  reloaded  and  the  performance  repeated,  the 


THE  HIGHWAYMEN.  23 

target  going  down  with  a  certainty  that  must  have 
astonished  the  enemy,  who,  we  were  glad  to  see,  liad 
become  very  interested  spectators.    Even  once  when 
the  gunner  missed  the  nail  the  target  fell  with  the 
same  deadly  accuracy.    Of  course  the  enemy  would 
think  it  had  fallen  accidentally.     But  after  all  they 
might  think  that  we  had  but  one  revolver — so  far  we 
had  been  shooting  with  the  monkey-wrench.    To  unde- 
ceive them,  in  case  they  did  labor  under  such  hallu- 
cination, we  concluded  to  shoot  off  three  cartridges  at 
once,  which  we  could  easily  do  by  putting  in  three 
nails,  and  hitting  them  with  the  flat  of  the  hatchet. 
To  add  to  the  effect  we  were  each  to  have  a  weapon. 
Mel  had  the  monkey-wrench,    Jim  took  the  wagon 
hammer,  which  in  times  of  peace  served  to  hold  the 
double-tree  on  the  wagon  tongue ;  I  took  a  half-inch 
bit.     Placing  ourselves  in  line  with  the  gunner,  Mel 
standing  so  that  he  could  work  the  string  with  his 
foot,  all  was  ready.    Our  three  shots  rang  out  simul- 
taneously,   the    target   fell,    and  with  our  smoking 
weapons  still  in  hand,  but  held  so  as  to  be  out  of 
sight  of  the  enemy,  we  all  ran  out  to  the  target.    We 
first  placed  our  revolvers  in  our  hip  pockets,  where 
they  would  be  concealed  by  our  coat  tails,  then  pick- 
ing up  the  much  perforated  stick,  we  engaged  in  a 
loud    and    animated    conversation,  from  which  our 
hearers  were  to  learn  that  our  last  three  shots  had  all 
taken  effect.  We  walked  back  to  our  wagon  with  a  swag- 
ger which  could  not  possibly  be  mistaken  for  any- 
thing else  than  that  we  were  not  to  be  fooled  with. 
We  now  unlimbered  the  gun,  brought  in  the  target 


24  THE  A 1  'ROHA  PHONE. 

and  wound  up  the  twine.    The  sun  was  still  visible 
above  the  horizon. 

Though  we  were  hifi^hly  clatod  with  the  success 
of  our  scheme,  it  was  with  a  chill injz;  sensation  that 
we  now  perceived  the  horse-thieves  brin*2:  out  their 
guns  and  revolvers,  and  with  what  seemed  to  us  as 
alto^etln'r  unneressary  show,  exaniiiie  them  carefully. 
They  took  out  all  the  cartridges  wliich  were  in  the 
weapons  and  reloaded  every  piece,  the  Winchest<TS 
seeming  to  our  fascinated  gaze  to  consume  an  enor- 
mous number  of  the  deadly  missiles.  However,  these 
proceedings  convinced  us  that  they  thought  we  were 
well  armed  and  knew  how  to  handle  our  weapons,  and 
well  they  might,  for  our  tactics  would  certainly  have 
deceived  an}^  one.  Their  plan,  we  finally  decided,  was 
to  slip  over  during  the  night  and  surprise  us,  get 
the  mules,  and  commit  any  other  atrocities  their 
fiendish  natures  might  suggest.  But  we  should  not 
slecj)  any  that  night.  If  they  did  attempt  to  come 
upon  us  unawares,  we  intended  to  meet  them  with  a 
'•game  of  bluff."  We  should  be  on  the  alert  and  sud- 
denly confront  them  with  our  weapons  presented,  and 
ae  it  would  be  a  bright  moonlight  night,  we  trusted 
that  the  gleaming  8te<-4  would  put  tl>em  to  flight.  Of 
the  many  ruses  which  we  might  have  i»racticed,  this 
was  perhaps  the  boldest,  most  reckless  and  nonsensi- 
cal one  we  could  hnv<»  hit  on.  But  so  far  from  seeing 
the  danger  of  it,  this  plan  grew  in  favor  the  more  we 
discussed  it.  If  we  only  had  something  with  which  to 
imitate  the  clieking  of  a  revolver  in  being  cocked  we 
felt  sure  that  our  sclieme  would  work.     But  we  could 


THE  HIGHWAYMEN.  25 

not  devise  anything  that  would  answer  tlie  purpose. 
Finally  I  remembered  having  read  how  one  of  the  Fox 
sisters  had  hoaxed  the  public  by  making  all  kinds  of 
queer  noises  with  her  big  toe.  I  mentioned  the  fact  to 
my  comrades-in-arms,  and  thoy  thought  it  quite  pos- 
sible that  some  of  us  possessed  the  same  gift.  We 
gathered  our  camp  chairs  around  an  upturned  horse- 
pail,  Jim  and  Mel  facing  each  other  and  I  facing  the 
enemy,  whom  I  could  see  by  stooping  a  little  and 
looking  under  the  wagon.  We  removed  our  shoes 
and  stockings  and  at  once  became  a  group  of  in- 
tensely interested  experimenters.  One  knowing  the 
depth  of  our  emotions  and  seeing  the  look  of  anxious 
expectation  on  our  faces  could  but  have  been  touched 
with  the  patlios  of  our  attempts  to  crack  our  toes 
with  the  clicking  sound  made  in  cocking  a  revolver. 
It  was  a  complete'  failure.  Sadly  we  put  on  our  shoes, 
feeling  anything  but  kindly  toward  tlie  obdurate  toes 
that  refused  to  click.  As  we  had  our  feet  on  the  pail, 
these  pedal  contortions  had  been  seen  by  the  watchful 
enemy,  but  of  course  they  could  not  have  the  faintest 
idea  of  our  object. 

Wo  talked  awhile  longer,  encouraging  one  anotiier 
to  believe  that  our  plan  would  work  without  the  click- 
ing, then  brought  in  the  mules,  tying  them  to  the 
wagon,  and  made  arrangements  for  the  night. 
Sliortly  afterwards  we  retired  to  our  schooner  and 
cleared  the  deck  for  action.  We  close-reefed  the 
wagon  cover  on  the  side  toward  the  horse-tliievos,  so 
as  to  liavo  an  unobstructed  view,  tlien  wr  raised  the 
side  boards  about  half  an  inch,  making  an  aperture 


26  Tin:  AfnonAnroxE. 

through  which  we  could  keep  a  watch,  if  we  wished, 
without  oureelveH  being  seen.  We  then  gave  a  little 
ntt<*ntion  to  our  weajtons  in  the  way  of  i)olishing 
them  up.  Tlie  friction  of  the  doublt^-tree  had  al- 
ready put  a  deadly  glint  on  the  wagon  hammer.  The 
monkey-wrench  and  bit,  being  new,  required  but 
little  polishing  to  reflect  the  fatal  moonbeams  with  a 
dangerous  i)rodigality  that  boded  ill  to  the  enemy. 
For  our  own  safety  we  handled  our  weapons  very  cau- 
tiously, remembering  the  many  sad  accidents  from 
the  careless  use  of  firearms.  Placing  them  where  they 
could  be  easily  reached  in  case  of  an  attack,  we  lay 
down  to  rest,  not  intending  to  sleep. 

For  an  hour  the  voices  of  the  four  men  in  the  other 
wagon  could  be  heard  as  they  talked  in  low  tones. 
The  niglit  was  splendid,  with  a  bright,  silvery  moon 
and  myriads  of  soft,  shining  stars.  In  spite  of  our 
danger  I  fell  to  thinking  about  these  mighty  orbs 
that  go  whirling  and  careering  through  space.  Did 
the  starry  world  continue  in  extent  on  and  on  with- 
out end,  each  brilliant  galaxy  but  the  })ortal  to  some 
grander  and  more  remote  system  of  worlds,  or  was 
there  a  limit  beyond  which  was  a  great,  black,  illimit- 
able void?  Again,  would  these  great  Hashing  suns 
and  planets  continue  their  orderly  procession  through 
space  for  all  time,  or  would  there  come  a  season  of 
cliaos  wlien  they  would  all  be  reduced  to  one  vast 
nebulous  mass  to  again  go  through  the  process  of 
world-making?  And  what  j)lace  would  man  have  in 
this  grand  succession  of  events?  With  such  thoughts, 
and  looking  out  into  the  glorious  night,  one  could 


THE  HIGHWAYMEN.  27 

but  be  impressed  with  the  splendor  and  majesty  of 
existence. 

The  low  tones  of  the  enemy  had  gradually  sub- 
sided, and  the  perfect  silence  whicli  reigned  recalled 
m.y  thoughts  to  earthly  things.    I  took  a  careful  sur- 
vey of  the  other  wagon,  but  no  one  was  to  be  seen. 
Our  determination  to  keep  awake  made  us  drowsy, 
and  the  intervals  between  lifting  our  heads  to  look 
out  grew  longer  and  longer.    Presently  the  men  re- 
sumed their  talk,  and  we  all  peered  through  the  crack 
in  the  side  of  the  wagon,  but  as  no  one  appeared  we 
soon  lay  down.    For  a  long  time  1  heard  nothing  but 
the    munch,  munch,  munch    of    the    mules    as  they 
cropped  the  grass  within  their  reach.    All  at  once  the 
munching  ceased.   I  was  wide  awake  in  an  instant.    I 
knew  instinctively  that  the  mules  had  had  their  atten- 
tion attracted  toward  the  other  wagon.    I  nudged 
my  companions  and  we  all  applied  our  eyes  to  the 
crack   at   the   same  instant.    Our  worst  fears  were 
realized.    A  lantern  was  burning  brightly  on  a  box 
about  ten  feet  from  the  other  wagon,  and  the  four 
men  were  cautiously  coming  directly  toward  us.  They 
all  carried  revolvers  now,  •the    barrels  of   which  we 
could  see  flashing  white  in  the  moonlight.    We  hur- 
riedly held  a  whispered  consultation.  Mel,  whose  forte 
was  elocution,  was  to  take  command.    When  he  gave 
the  word  we  were  to  present  arms  and  fire.   If  our  first 
volley  failed  to  check  the  enemy  we  were  to  fall  back, 
paralyzed  with  fear,  and  let  them  do  their  worst.    The 
horse-thieves  were  now  within  ten  paces  of  our  wagon. 
Mel,  with  all  the  assurance  of  one  who  has  perfect 


28  THE  AVRORAPHOXK. 

confidence  in  liis  oratorical  powers,  yelled:  "Git!" 
We  all  sprang  up  at  the  same  time,  and  the  surprised 
cut-throats  suddenl3^  found  themselves  looking  into 
the  sliining  barrel  of  a  monke^'-wrench,  the  cold 
muzzle  of  a  wagon-hammer  and  tlie  relentless  bore  of 
a  4-8  calibre  bit.  Our  arms  gained  another  signal 
victory.  The  desperadoes  whirled  and  fled  tumultu- 
ously  for  their  wagon,  into  which  they  pitched  them- 
selves in  a  way  that  for  a  very  brief  instant  presented 
four  pair  of  legs  projecting  perpendicularly  into  the 
bright  moonliglit. 

Proud  of  our  success,  we  lowered  our  weapons, 
laying  them  within  easy  reach  of  our  now  compara- 
tively steady  right  hands.  We  had  scarcely  done  so 
when  up  raised  the  four  men  in  the  other  wagon 
accompanied  by  an  ominous  clicking,  and  we  were 
covered  by  guns  of  the  most  deadly  pattern.  Simul- 
taneously there  reached  our  ears  the  command : 
"Lie  down."  They  affected  no  oratorical  flourishes, 
but  their  imjjressive  ju-esentation  of  the  cold  facts  in 
the  case  swept  away  every  vestige  of  the  good  im- 
pression made  on  our  minds  b3''  the  cunning  and 
eloquence  of  the  defense.  We  threw  ourselves  down 
with  a  precipitancy  that  made  the  bottom  of  the 
wagon  resound. 

We  were  now  at  their  mercy.  While  covered  with 
their  guns,  one  of  them  could  come  over,  first  get  the 
mules,  then  return,  reach  over  the  side  of  the  wagon, 
revolver  in  hand,  and  perforate  our  loudl}^  palpitat- 
ing hearts  at  his  leisure.  We  day  very  quiet  for  a 
long  time.    It  was  with  deeply  abused  feelings  that  we 


Till':  HKiHWAYMEN.  29 

heard  the  mules  resume  their  feeding  as  unconcerned 
as  if  tlie  land  were  not  overclouded  with  the  smoke  of 
battle,  torn  and  couA^ilsed  with  the  shock  of  deadly 
strife!  At  length  Jim,  lie  of  the  wagon-hammer, 
mustered  up  courage  to  whisper : 

*<  Boys,  is  any  one  hurt?" 

Ascertaining  tliat  we  had  suffered  no  loss  of  life  or 
limb,  we  cautiously  lifted  our  heads  and  again  applied 
our  eyes  to  the  crack.  The  first  glance  showed  us 
the  four  men  sitting  where  we  had  last  seen  them,  the 
cruel  guns  held  in  the  same  position.  With  one 
accord  we  all  raised  our  hands  to  the  top  of  our  heads 
to  make  sure  no  part  of  them  obtruded  above  the 
side-boards.  We  lowered  them  with  three  distinct 
sighs  of  relief,  perfectly  satisfied  for  once  that  we  had 
not  been  blessed  with  larger  cranial  developments. 

It  was  evident  by  this  time  that  we  need  not  fear 
an  immediate  renewal  of  the  attack.  Beyond  doubt 
they  thought  us  armed  and  were  determined  not 
to  let  us  "get  the  drop"  on  them  again.  The  moon, 
however,  would  soon  be  down,  when  darkness  would 
hide  our  movements.  Deceived  as  they  were,  and  un- 
abl(^  to  see  our  whereabouts,  they  would  regard  it 
as  nothing  less  than  suicide  to  make  another 
advance. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  the  moon  disappeared. 
As  darkness  settled  over  the  scene  the  lantern,  which 
they  had  neglected  to  put  out  in  their  hasty  retreat, 
lit  up  their  surroundings  while  it  served  to  throw  us 
into  deeper  obscurity.  They  seemed  to  realize  this, 
for  suddenly  a  boot  flew  out  of  their  wagon,  as  if  pro- 


ao  THE  AURORAPnONE. 

polled  by  an  irresistible  force,  hit  the  lantern  and 
knocked  it  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  over  in  the  di- 
rection of  Del  Norte.  With  the  disappearance  of  the 
lantern,  darkness  prevailed  and  the  hostile  forces  be- 
came invisible  to  each  other. 

We  felt  that  we  were  saved.  The  enemy  would  not 
molest  us  under  the  uncertainties  of  darkness,  and  in 
the  morninj!:  we  should  still  keep  up  appearances. 
The  obvious  prominence  of  our  revolvers,  as  they 
rested  in  our  hip  pockets,  should  show  that  we  were 
read^^  for  any  onslaught,  and  they  would  be  no  keener 
to  attack  us  than  the  day  before. 

WMth  the  first  light  of  morning  both  camps  were 
astir,  if,  indeed,  they  had  not  been  all  night.  Broad 
daylight  revealed  us  getting  breakfast,  moving 
aV)Out  with  protuberances  under  our  coat-tails  that 
looked  like  bustles  which  had  slipped  a  little  to  one 
side.  They  would  certainly  indii^ato  that  we  carried 
revolvers  of  enormous  calibre.  The  enemy  were  also 
busy  preparing  the  morning  meal,  two  with  revolvers 
buckled  on  them  while  the  two  Winchesters  stood 
leaning  against  the  wagon  near  by. 

Just  as  we  were  sitting  down  to  breakfast  we  were 
startled  by  one  of  the  enemy  calling  out:  "Say,  over 
there,  kill  one  of  those  antelope! " 

We  looked  up  to  find  them  all  excitement  over  a 
group  of  five  antelope  about  one  hundred  yards  dis- 
tant looking  at  us  with  evident  curiosity.  They  were 
noble  animals,  nnd  the  sight  of  themstanding  there 
in  the  bright  morning  liglit  made  our  pulses  thrill. 
They  stood  off  to  the  rear  of  the  wagons  on  a  line 


THE  HIGHWA  YMEN.  31 

about  midway  between  them.  Unconsciously  both 
parties  drew  out  toward  the  antelope.  The  shy  creat- 
ures bounded  off  a  little  way,  turned  and  watched  us 
as  before.  We  all  made  another  advance.  Again 
the  antelope  retreated  and  stopped.  Both  par- 
ties followed,  coming  within  a  few  steps  of  each  other. 
The  antelope  now  dashed  away  out  of  sight,  neither 
party  having  shown  the  least  desire  to  display  its 
marksmanship.  We  faced  each  other  with  looks  of 
mutual  contempt.  With  withering  scorn  their  spokes- 
man asked:    "Why  didn't  you  shoot  one  of  them?" 

"If  we  were  a  traveling  arsenal,"  Jim  retorted, 
with  a  sneer,  "with  all  that  ammunition  you  stuffed 
into  it,  we  wouldn't  have  let  an  antelope  get  away." 

"Ammunition,  indeed!"  the  other  replied  with  un- 
guarded vehemence,  "Do  you  call  that  ammunition  ?  " 
taking  from  his  pocket  a  handful  of  empty  shells 
and  tossing  them  in  the  air.  "We've  been  out  of 
cartridges,"  he  continued,  "for  two  days;  but  it's  a 
downright  shame  for  fine  shots  like  you,  with  plenty 
of  ammunition  and  good  revolvers,  to  let  those  ante- 
lope get 

"Revolvers  be  hanged!  "  Jim  interrupted,  hotly, 
looking  only  to  our  honor  in  regard  to  the  antelope, 
"Do  you  call  that  a  revolver?"  and  he  whipped  out 
the  wagon  hammer  with  four  pair  of  socks  tied  around 
one  end  of  it. 

This  was  too  much  for  the  gravitj'^  even  of  horse- 
thieves  and  dyspeptics,  and  tlie  true  state  of  affairs 
having  dawned  upon  us,  roar  after  roar  of  laughter 
reverberated  over  the  late  battle  field. 


32  77/ A'  AVRORAPHONE. 

Explanations  ensued  as  soon  as  our  hilarity  would 
permit.  They  were  a  party  of  divinity  students  of 
about  our  own  ages,  whoiu  over-study  had  compelled 
to  seek  the  inounlains  for  rest  and  recreation.  When 
they  arrived  at  Colorado  Springs,  they  had  bought 
their  outfit,  including  guns  and  ammunition  jointly, 
had  fitted  themselves  out  with  the  tourist  costume 
much  in  vogue  at  that  time,  and  started  for  the  San 
Juan  Country  in  our  wake.  With  the  prodigality  of 
inexperienced  and  eager  marksmen  they  had  shot 
away  all  their  cartridges  at  prairie  dogs,  chipmunks, 
and  anything  else  that  came  within  range  of  their 
harmless  fire.  They  had  intended  to  replenish  at 
Silver  Cliff,  but  the  belligerent  miners  had  cornered 
the  supply.  They  had  driven  into  Silver  Cliff  about 
the  time  we  drove  out,  staying  there  about  two  hours. 
The  miners  had  told  them  all  the  pretty  stories  they 
had  time  to,  and  with  the  fatherly  interest  they  take 
in  all  young  credulous  "tender feet,''  had  especially 
warned  them  to  be  on  the  look-out  for  Alligator  Bill  and 
his  two  pals,  Mosco  Pete  and  Arizona  Jack,  the  three 
worst  horse-thieves  and  desperadoes  in  the  West; 
and  in  order  that  they  might  know  them  had  de- 
scribed us  three  innocents  and  our  outfit  to  a  dot. 
Their  nerves  were  just  right  to  make  them  keep  a  con- 
stant look-out  for  the  dreaded  horse-thieves.  Of 
course  they  thought  they  had  found  them  when  they 
came  upon  us  camped  in  the  west  opening  of  the  pass. 
Both  parties  looked  the  worse  from  having  faced  the 
dust-laden  wind  tlint  liad  blown  all  day  from  the 
south,  so  tliat  our  appearance,  which,  I  venture  to 


THE  HIGHWAYMEN.  33 

say,  under  ordinary  circumstances  would  reassure  the 
most  timid,  was  then  rather  in  keeping  with  the  char- 
acteristic names  we  had  received.  But  they  were  in 
the  same  predicament  that  we  were,  and  had  to  stay 
there  over  night.  They  knew  we  were  the  terrible 
horse-thieves,  and  had  followed  the  same  course  of 
reasoning  that  we  had  in  regard  to  going  on  or  turn- 
ing back.  Thinking  that  we  were  coming  over  merely 
to  reconnoitre,  and  wanting  to  discourage  all  familiar- 
ity, and  also  to  impress  the  fact  upon  us  that  they 
were  well  armed  and  knew  just  what  sort  of  charac- 
ters we  were,  they  had  given  us  the  affront  we  had  re- 
ceived, when  we  started  to  tender  them  the  fruit. 
Their  reloading,  of  course,  had  been  done  for  effect, 
with  empty  shells. 

Our  wonderful  marksmanship  had  completely  de- 
ceived them,  filling  them  with  dread  and  terror.  That 
we  should  attack  them  about  midnight  was  a  fore- 
gone conclusion.  Our  perfect  silence  they  construed 
into  the  portentous  calm  that  precedes  the  most  ter- 
rific outbreak.  As  the  time  drew  near  for  the  inevita- 
ble massacre,  their  fears  drove  them  to  distraction. 
So  sure  were  they  that  we  should  kill  them  to  avoid 
trouble  and  the  possibility  of  pursuit,  that  they  finally 
concluded  to  put  matters  in  such  shape  that  we  could 
not  have  even  the  shadow  of  an  excuse  for  taking 
their  lives.  They  got  up,  lit  a.  lantern  and  proceeded 
to  write  out  a  bill  of  sale,  conveying  their  horses, 
wagon  and  harness,  and  othei*  personal  property  to 
us.  As  they  would  have  to  have  our  names  to  make 
the  document  of  any  worth  they  thought  it  would  be 

3 


34  THE  AUKORAPHONE. 

the  proper  thing  to  come  over  and  present  their  visiting 
cards,  hoping  to  be  honored  in  return  with  those  of 
Alligator  Bill  and  his  two  confederates.  With  their 
cards,  which  our  fears  mistook  for  revolvers,  in  hand, 
they  started  over  on  their  generous  mission.  They 
were  just  on  the  point  of  hailing  us  when  our  hostile 
demonstration  made  them  forget  all  about  the  object 
of  their  visit  and  impelled  them  to  flee  for  their  lives. 
They  had  also  raised  the  side  boards  of  their  wagon, 
and  had  seen  us  lay  down  our  weapons,  and  on  a  sud- 
den impulse  born  of  despair  had  tried  the  effect  of 
empty  guns  upon  us.  They  had  determined  to  hold 
the  advantage  thus  gained  until  darkness  came  to 
their  rescue.  We  in  turn  explained  about  the  battery 
and  the  target.  We  had  hoped  to  avoid  having  anything 
to  say  about  the  most  ridiculous  part  of  our  proceed- 
ings, but  one  of  them  alluded  to  it,  saying,  "One 
thing  greatly  mystified  and  alarmed  us,  as  we  feared 
it  was  some  incantation  whereby  you  summoned  the 
evil  spirits  to  your  aid — your  marksmanship  having 
already  convinced  us  that  you  certainly  had  such  aid 
— what  in  the  mischief  were  you  doing  with  your 
toes?" 

We  had  to  explain  amid  new  explosions  of  laugh- 
ter, mostly  from  our  friends.  But  Mel  about  evened 
up  by  assuring  them  that  if  we  spared  their  lives  the 
bill  of  sale  must  be  forthcoming. 

Everything  cleared  up,  we  joined  together  and  en- 
joyed a  good  breakfast,  during  which  we  planned  to  con- 
tinue our  journey  in  company  for  the  remainder  of  the 
summer. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BURIED  TREASURE. 

By  the  time  breakfast  was  over  the  sun  was  well  up 
in  the  heavens.  The  sky  was  cloudless,  but  from 
some  cause  the  atmosphere  had  become  tinged  with 
smoke,  giving:  the  sun  a  reddish  cast,  rather  pleasant 
in  its  effect.  We  sought  no  further  explanation  of  the 
phenomenon  than  that  offered  by  one  of  our  new 
friends,  that  the  smoke  of  battle  had  not  yet  cleared 
away. 

At  nine  o'clock  we  departed  from  the  scene  of  our 
many  miraculous  escapes  and  began  our  journey 
through  the  desert,  without  any  presentiments,  or 
depression  of  spirits,  though  we  were  a  little  fearful 
of  losing  the  way  in  the  tangle  of  sage-brush  that 
stretched  out  before  us.  Having  some  misgivings 
about  water,  we  had  taken  the  precaution  to  fill  our 
two  two-gallon  water  kegs  just  before  starting. 

When  we  got  below  the  point  where  the  water  sank 
into  the  sand,  five  of  us  got  out  of  the  wagons  and 
walked  in  the  dry,  sandy  bed  of  the  river.  We  thought 
it  rather  a  novel  proceeding  to  thus  walk  along  over 
a  great  current  of  water  that  must  be  coursing  its 
way  beneath  us.  We  stepped  very  lightly,  somewhat 
apprehensive  of  n  sudden  giving  way  of  our  footing. 
Then  we  talked  about  how  romantic  it  would  be  if 

35 


36  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

8ome  of  us  should  drop  through  and  discover  a  dark, 
subterranean  channel  abounding  in  the  marvelous, 
relieved  here  and  there  with  rich  deposits  of  gold 
and  snup:  pockets  of  diamonds.  At  this  stage  of  the 
picture,  we  walked  more  heavily,  to  enhance  the  possi- 
bility of  breaking  through.  But  as  nothing  of  he 
kind  occurred,  we  soon  tired  of  walking  and  returned 
to  the  wagons.  Mel  concluded  to  try  a  sail  in  the 
students'  schooner,  while  two  of  its  crew  shipped  with 
Jim  and  me.  We  had  all  grown  quite  friendly.  The 
niglit  had  demonstrated  that  the  two  parties  had 
great  respect  for  each  other,  and  the  fact  that  we  had 
come  through  a  common  danger,  as  it  were,  made  us 
feel  very  kindly  toward  one  another. 

The  road  proved  to  be  much  as  the  toll-gate  keeper 
had  said.  At  times  we  found  it  rather  difficult  to 
determine  whether  we  were  in  or  out  of  the  way.  It 
was  only  a  continuous  opening  in  the  sage-brush,  and 
as  there  were  many  other  openings  apparently  sim- 
ilar, it  required  good  judgment  to  decide  which  one  to 
follow.  We  once  discovered  that  we  were  out  of  the 
road  by  suddenly  finding  ourselves  confronted  with 
a  thick  tangle  of  sage-brush.  Fortunately  we 
had  not  gone  far  astray  and  had  no  difficulty 
in  retracing  our  way  to  the  road.  Our  wagons 
rolled  along  in  the  sand,  which  closed  up  in 
the  wake  of  the  wheels,  leaving  no  more  trace  than  if 
our  wagons  were  indeed  schooners  upon  "the  track- 
less waste  of  waters."  We  made  a  mistake  in  not 
engaging  some  native  to  take  steerage  passage  with 
us  to  steer  us  through  the  wilderness. 


BURIED  TREASURE.  37 

At  noon  we  rested  an  hour,  allowing  the  teams  to 
feed  on  the  grass,  patches  of  which  were  encountered 
all  along  the  route.  After  using  what  water  we  re- 
quired for  dinner,  the  remainder  was  given  to  the 
animals. 

For  two  hours  after  dinner  we  pursued  our  way 
and  had  not  come  to  the  expected  water.  It  was 
then  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  We  drove  on  for 
another  hour  and  still  no  water.  We  had  hurried  our 
teams  as  much  as  possible,  and  must  have  traveled 
twenty-five  miles  at  the  least  calculation.  Could  it  be 
that  we  had  mistaken  the  road  ?  It  was  with  grow- 
ing anxiety  that  we  pushed  on  for  another  hour,  but 
only  to  meet  the  same  disappointment.  It  was 
almost  certain  now  that  we  were  lost.  For  the  last 
mile,  clumps  of  sage-brush  had  been  encountered  here 
and  there  in  the  road.  Still  we  pressed  forward  a 
mile  farther,  only  to  find  the  road  completely  over- 
grown and  impassable.  At  six  o'clock  we  were  retrac- 
ing our  way,  determined  to  make  the  most  of  the  day- 
light yet  remaining.  At  seven,  the  sun  set  like  a  great 
ball  of  fire,  the  atmosphere  having  grown  more  murky 
as  the  day  advanced.  The  moon  would  give  but 
little  light  through  that  dense  medium,  and  it  would 
require  extreme  watchfulness  to  keep  the  road  in  the 
dim  light.  Just  as  the  last  rays  of  daylight  were 
fading  away,  our  further  progress  was  checked  by  a 
dense  growth  of  the  detestable  sage-brush.  Again  we 
found  our  way  back  to  the  road,  though  with  much 
difficulty.  As  the  night  would  be  cool  we  concluded 
to  keep  moving  till  we  made  our  way  out  of  this  hor- 


38  THE  AFRORAPHONE. 

riblt'  lahyrinth.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before  we 
were  again  out  of  tlie  road,  nor  could  we  find  our 
way  back  this  time.  Again  and  again  we  thought  we 
had  found  the  right  op«ming,  only  to  run  into  the 
ubi(juitous  sage-brush  at  oacli  new  endeavor. 

We  w»^re  liopelessly  lost,  and  all  of  us  by  this  time 
were  burning  with  thirst.  We  had  not  thought  of 
eating,  nor  had  we  stopped  to  allow  the  teams  to  rest 
and  graze.  They  too  must  be  suffering  for  water, 
thougli  not  perliaps  so  severely  as  ourselves, 
for  our  fears  undoubtedly  aggravated  our  thirst. 
But  it  would  not  do  to  give  up,  and  we  con- 
tinued our  fruitless  search  for  the  road.  At  twelve 
o'clock  we  chanced  upon  a  little  clearing,  with  some 
dark  object  dimly  outlined  near  the  center  of  it.  We 
made  haste  to  investigate,  and  to  our  great  joy  found 
a  half  rotted  down  well  curb  wliich  protected,  or  half 
protected,  a  veritable  well  of  water  in  this  dry  and 
forsaken  desert.  I  picked  up  a  pebble  and  tossed  it 
down  the  dark  opening  which  the  curb  surrounded. 
An  instant  later  and  the  agreeable  splash  of  water 
reached  our  ears.  The  horses  and  mules  had  crowded 
up  to  tlie  well  along  with  ourselves.  One  of  the  ropes 
used  in  t(?thering  out  the  horses  was  tied  to  the  bail 
of  a  bucket,  which  was  speedily  let  down  into  the  well 
about  twenty  feet.  It  struck  the  water  and  Jim  gave 
the  rope  a  peculiar  jei-k ;  then  we  heard  the  bubbling, 
splasliing  sound  of  tlie  water  as  the  bucket  turned 
over  and  filled.  Hand  ovei-  hand  Jim  drew  the  bucket 
up,  the  water  trickling  musically  from  its  sides  down 
into  the  well.     As  the  bucket  came  to  the  surface  we 


BURIED  TREASURE.  89 

could  see  that  it  was  filled  with  pure,  sparkling  water. 
Although  our  finer  organizations  made  us  suffer  more 
keenly  than  the  animals,  yet  they  made  us  more  hu- 
mane, and  we  all  insisted  that  the  poor  brutes  be 
satisfied  first.  So  Jim  held  out  the  water  to  the 
mules,  which  were  pressing  eagerly  forward ;  but  as 
their  nostrils  came  to  the  rim  of  the  bucket  they 
started  back  with  snorts  of  wildest  terror,  nearly 
upsetting  the  wagon  in  their  mad  efforts  to  get  away 
from  the  water.  When  offered  to  the  horses  they 
showed  even  more  fright  than  the  mules,  rearing  and 
plunging  frantically,  and  when  quieted  down  stood 
shaking  and  trembling  in  a  most  pitiful  manner.  I 
had  got  a  tin  cup  from  our  wagon,  in  the  mean  time, 
and  being  very  thirsty  was  determined  to  have  a 
drink.  I  first  took  a  cup  of  the  water  and  poured  it 
over  my  hands,  experiencing  a  cool  and  very  pleasant 
sensation,  for  my  hands  were  dry  and  feverish,  and  the 
water  was  cold.  I  then  dipped  up  another  cup- 
ful to  drink,  but  no  sooner  did  I  raise  it  to  my  lips 
than  a  painful  contraction  seized  my  throat,  an  inde- 
scribable terror  and  loathing  seemed  to  numb  and 
shrink  my  body,  chilling  me  with  deadly  horror.  I 
dashed  the  cup  and  contents  from  me.  It  was  the 
same  with  all  the  others;  consumed  with  a  raging 
thirst,  intensified  by  sight  of  the  water,  yet  unable  to 
drink  a  drop.  The  well  we  had  found  in  no  wise  re- 
duced our  danger  of  perishing  for  water. 

Another  danger  now  threatened.  Since  dark  we 
had  noticed  to  the  west  of  us  the  glow-spots  indicat- 
ing the  presence  of  fire,  but  so  far  away  that  we  had 


40  THE  Arrj)fr\rnn\L\ 

apprehended  no  danger  from  that  source.  But  for  the 
past  hour  a  strong  wind  had  been  blowing  from  the 
west,  and  the  smoke  and  odor  of  burning  sage-brush, 
or  grease-wood,  as  it  is  well  called,  had  been  borne  to 
our  nostrils  f(jr  some  time.  The  flames  were  now  in 
sight,  and  fanned  by  the  rising  wind  were  bearing  di- 
rectly toward  us  at  an  alarming  pace.  The  heat  and 
smoke  were  already  disagreeable.  The  little  clearing 
which  we  occupied  would  be  no  protection  in  that 
wilderness  of  raging  fire.  We  could  save  ourselves  by 
getting  into  the  odious  well,  though  we  all  had  a  holy 
horror  of  it,  but  the  teams  must  be  sacrificed  unless 
they  could  outrun  the  fire,  which  was  hardly  probable. 
We  quickly  set  them  free  from  wagon  and  harness  and 
tried  to  drive  them  away,  but  the  poor  frightened 
things  could  not  be  induced  to  leave  their  human 
friends. 

AVe  took  off  the  wagon  covers  and  thoroughly  sat- 
urated them  and  also  our  blankets  with  water  drawn 
from  the  well,  and  then  spread  them  over  the  wagons, 
thinking  that  perhaps  this  might  save  them.  It 
would  have  answered  the  purpose  in  an  ordinary 
prairie  tire,  but  we  had  our  doubts  in  this  case,  as  the 
grease-wood  burns  slower  and  with  more  intense  and 
enduring  heat.  It  would  be  hours  before  we  should 
dare  to  come  out  of  that  terrible  hole.  We  made  up 
some  bundles  of  provisions,  and  with  ropes  lowered 
them  into  the  w(41,  having  first  driven  some  stakes 
into  the  ground  to  which  to  tie  the  ropes.  These  were 
covered  with  dirt,  to  guard  them  against  the  fire. 
The  boards  of  the  curbing  were  torn  off  and  laid  over 


BURIED  TREASURE.  41 

the  well,  leaving  a  space  just  sufficient  to  admit  us; 
all  was  then  covered  with  dirt  so  that  the  last  one  in, 
by  carefully  adjusting  a  single  board,  would  place  a 
dirt  roof  over  our  heads  to  protect  us  from  the  heat 
and  falling  cinders.  The  well  had  a  rough  rock  wall, 
and  with  the  ropes  and  parcels  we  should  no  doubt  be 
able  to  maintain  a  safe  if  not  a  comfortable  position. 

The  smoke  and  heat  had  now  increased  to  an  in- 
tolerable degree,  and  bidding  good-byo  to  our  poor 
dumb  friends,  which  were  huddled  together,  snorting 
and  quaking  with  terror,  we  prepared  to  let  ourselves 
down  through  the  aperture  which  had  been  left  for 
that  purpose.  It  required  great  nerve  on  the  part  of 
those  who  went  in  first,  as  they  must,  of  course,  be 
nearest  the  mysterious  water.  Mel  and  one  of  the 
students  were  the  first  ones  to  enter,  after  which  the 
rest  of  us  were  less  reluctant  to  consign  ourselves  to 
the  disagreeable  refuge.  Jim,  being  the  strongest, 
was  the  last  one  in,  as  he  could  best  arrange  the 
board  that  closed  the  opening,  and  shut  us  in  from 
the  outer  world— a  world  of  raging  fire. 

Very  soon  we  heard  the  fire  sweep  up  to  and  around 
the  clearing,  roaring  and  crackling  like  an  artillery  fusil- 
lade. The  frightful  shrieks,  almost  human,  of  the 
horses  and  mules  chilled  our  very  blood.  Suddenly  a 
heavy  fall  overhead  was  heard,  and  a  shower  of  dirt 
rattled  down  upon  us.  The  temperature  becoming 
uncomfortable  near  the  surface,  Jim  begged  those  be- 
low to  descend  a  little  in  order  that  he  might  seek  a 
cooler  atmosphere.  The  rest  of  us  were  arranged  in 
groups  of  three.     The  three  farthest  down  began  to 


42  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

lo\v«'r  themselves,  but  suddenly  stopped  with  cries  of 
horror.  We  all  peered  into  the  darkness  below,  and 
either  from  the  fact  that  our  eyes  had  grown  accus- 
tomed to  it,  or  from  some  ])ecnliarity  of  the  water, 
we  distinctly  saw  four  grinning  skulls  looking  up  at 
us  from  the  bottom  of  the  wdl,  and  we  further  i)er- 
ceived,  with  a  creeping  of  the  flesh,  that  they  were 
alive  and  moved.  This  latter,  however,  proved  to  be 
a  delusion  caused  by  a  ripple  of  the  water.  At  Jim's 
renewed  entreaties  those  below  descended  a  few  feet 
towards  the  <iliastly  objects  beneath  them;  but  again 
they  were  interrupted,  this  time  by  a  portion  of  the 
wall  caving  in,  the  stones  falling  into  the  water  with 
loud  splashes.  Quite  an  opening  was  faintly  outlined 
in  the  wall.  Fortunately  some  one  had  been  thought- 
ful enough  to  put  some  candles  into  his  pockets,  and 
nearly  all  of  us  had  matclies.  A  light  was  soon 
struck,  and  a  passage  about  three  feet  high  and  two 
wide  was  discovered.  We  clambered  down  and 
into  the  passage  and  the  room  into  which 
it  led,  as  quickly  as  possible.  The  apartment  was 
ten  feet  scjuare  and  nine  lii^ih,  an  excavation,  evi- 
dently the  work  of  man.  The  four  walls,  roof  and 
floor  were  bare  dirt.  The  candle  threw  a  pale,gliostly 
light  around  the  room,  revealing  as  its  only  furniture 
a  strong  box,  or  chest,  which  was  wide  open.  A  black 
velvet  cloth  concealed  its  contents.  On  lifting  tliis 
there  was  dis])layed  to  our  view  the  rarest  collection 
of  gold  coins,  diamonds  and  jeweled  ornaments  that 
ever  dazzled  the  eyes  of  mortal  man.  A  piece  of  parch- 
ment neatly  folded  was  lying  in  one  corner  of  the 


BURIED  TREASURE.  48 

chest.  On  examination  it  was  found  to  be  written 
over  with  Spanish  characters  still  plain  and  distinct. 
Mel  and  one  of  the  students  had  made  Spanish  a 
study,  and  read  the  communication  readily.  Inter- 
preted, it  read  as  follows : 

Unknown  Land,  Auff.  IGth,  1803. 
To  Whom  Thi.s  May  Corm^: 

My  iiaiiic  is  Lfoii  Esj)ai'do.  I  am  a  S|)aniard  and  fifty- 
nine  years  old.  For  tliirly  y(nirs  I  have  been  a  ])irat(',  and 
lliis  treasure  iias  been  aeevnnnlated  tlirongli  nunierous 
fiendish  acts  of  crime  and  bloodshed.  Men,  women  and 
chihh'en  1  have  murdered  in  cohl  bh)od.  Many  have  ^one 
(h)wu  in  s(;uttled  ships  after  having*  been  robbed  of  every- 
thing- of  vahie.  The  sea  hohls  ah  my  victims  and  tliey  are 
h^^'ion.  This  ill-gotten  wealth  has  l)e(;ome  a  curse  to  mo, 
and  for  years  I  have  been  asactiv<'  in  ti"yingtop:et  rid  of  it  as 
I  was  in  <j,aininf^"  it,  I  eould  not  bring  myself  to  give  it 
away,  for  it  would  (^ntail  upon  the  rec-eiver  the  same  misfor- 
tunes it  had  brought  upon  me.  My  first  i)lan  to  disp<jse  of 
it  was  to  sink  it  in  the  sea  One  dark  night,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  three  of  my  oldest  followers,  I  took  the  chest  in  a 
boat  and  rowing  a  mile  from  my  slii[)  cast  it  info  the  water, 
liut  to  our  horror,  for  the  others  saw  the  occurrence,  there 
came  from  all  j>arf  s  of  the  sea  a  most  horrible  array  of  my 
victims  I  say  most  lunTible,  but  that  does  not  begin  to 
ex])ress  the  loathsome  spectacle^ — men,  women  and  children 
in  all  stages  of  de('om])osition,  ghastly  eorjKses  emitting  a 
terrible  odor  and  screaming  at  us  in  harsh,  blood-eurdling 
tones:  "Take  it  away!  take  it  away!"  Pursued  by  the 
awful  sounds,  we  hlirried  back  to  the  ship,  procured  grai»- 
l)ling  hooks  andreturned  to  the  place,  ea.sily  discovered  by  the 
loud  hid<'ous  distnri»ance  that  still  ])revailed.  We  recovered 
the  chest,  got  it  into  tiie  boat  and  under  a  frenzy  of  terror 
cari-ied  it  back  to  the  ship.  1  next  ti'ied  to  sink  it  in  waters 
far  distant  from  the  scene  of  any  of  my  atrocities,  but  the 
same  foul,  frightful  assemblage  raised  their  horrid  din 
again,  and  we  were  gla<l  to  get  back  to  the  shi])  with  the 
clu'st.  I  then  tried  more  distant  s«'as  and  rivers,  but  always 
with  the  same  result. 

Hut  T  must  get  rid  of  the  accursed  stuff.  If  the  waters 
refused  to  r<H'eive  it,  tb<'n  the  land  must  become  its  burial 
place.  With  two  teams  and  four  trusty  followers  I  have 
made  my  way  from   the  (lulf  «>f  Mexico  to  this  loue  spot. 


44  THE  AURORA  PHONE. 

We  first  dug  the  well  to  supply  ourselves  with  water,  and 
nftrrwards  excavated  the  room  yon  ai'e  now  in,  to  receive 
the  treasure.  When  all  was  tinished  and  the  chest  safely 
dejiosited  underground,  we  filled  our  water  barrels  for  the 
return  trip.  Then,  unperceived  hy  tlu'  others,  1  threw  some 
of  the  blood  cursed  ^old  into  the  well  to  see  what  effect  it 
would  have  on  the  water,  I  watched  the  men  when  they 
went  to  drink  of  it  the  last  time.  They  would  no  sooner 
rnise  the  cu])  to  their  lips  than  they  would  dash  it  from 
them  with  every  exjtression  of  horror.  As  I  wanted  no  liv- 
ing- man  1o  know  wliere  this  accursed  treasure  was  concealed, 
I  offered  the  men  wine  dru^-^ed  with  a  deadly  poison.  They 
di-ank  of  it  ea^ei-ly  and  in  a  few  momentslaterjillfourof  them 
lay  dead  at  my  feet.  1  make  my  last  visit  to  thisroom  after 
their  death.  1  shall  ascend  after  wallin;^-  uj)  the  openinj»-  of 
the  passaj;e,  throw  the  bodies  of  the  four  dead  men  into  the 
well,  and  make  my  way  back  to  the  (lulf  alone. 

My  last  words  must  be  to  warn  the  finder  of  this  not  to 
attempt  to  make  use  of  th(^  treasure.  It  will  brinji;  disgrace, 
misfortune  and  bitter  suffering.  It  will  fill  his  days  with 
torture  and  rob  his  nights  oi  rest.  Slee])ing  or  waking  it 
will  haunt  him  with  demons  and  ghouls  that  never  rest  in 
theii-  devilish  torments.  It  will  prove  an  eternal  curse, 
burning  and  searing  its  way  into  his  brain,  filling  it  with  a 
diabolical  frenzy  worse  than  the  pangs  of  hell.  By  all  you 
hold  sacred  in  earth  or  heaven  let  the  accursed  stuff  alone. 

Leon  Espardg. 

We  at  once  proceeded  to  select  the  most  valuable 
gems  and  coins  and  stow  them  away  in  our  po«kets. 
There  was  a  sufficiency  for  all;  indeed,  we  should  be 
compelled  to  leave  the  bulk  of  that  glittering  treas- 
ure hid  away  in  that  dismal  hole,  perhaps  for  ever. 
In  the  excitement  of  finding  untold  wealth,  our  thirst 
had  somewhat  subsided,  and  we  had  forgotten  our 
terrible  surroundings  and  the  frightful  experience  we 
had  had  with  the  water.  The  touch  of  the  jewels  oc- 
casioned no  unj)leasant  sensations,  and  we  only  felt 
elated  over  our  discovery.  As  we  fell  to  planning  the 
great  things  we  should  do  with  our  new  found  wealth, 


BURIED  TREASURE.  45 

no  thouf^ht  of  the  warning  was  allowed  to  interfere 
with  our  bright  pictures. 

Three  hours  wont  by  pleasantly  before  we  thought 
of  taking  steps  to  regain  the  outer  world,  but  as  we 
should  have  to  make  our  way  o*ut  of  the  desert  on 
foot,  we  could  not  tarry  with  our  splendid  dreams 
any  longer.    Jim  taking  the  lead  we  began  to  climb 
to  the  top  of  the  well,  a  distance  of  fifteen  feet.    Arriv- 
ing at  the  covering,  Jim  essayed  to  push  away  the 
board    he  had  last  placed  in  position,  but  he  could 
not  budge  it.    It  was  the  same  witli  all  the  other 
boards.    We  were  fastened  in  that  odious  hole  with 
no  means  of  escape.    Had  the  curso  of  the  ill-omened 
treasure  already  begun  to  work?    Troubled  with  this 
thought  we  again  repaired  to  the  treasure  room.     It 
was  suggested  that  we  restore  all  the  jewels  and  coins 
to  the  chest  before  we  considered  any  plans  for  ex- 
huming ourselves.     It  was  contended,  however,  that 
our  exit  was  hindered  by  the  carcase  of  one  of  the 
mules  or  horses,  and  that  we  had  heard  it  fall  on  the 
boards  previous  to  our  discovery  of  the  treasure,  and 
consequently  the  latter  could  not  have  had  anything 
to  do  with  it  by  virtue  of  any  evil  spell  it  might  pos- 
sess.   This  specious  reasoning  so  relieved  our  minds 
that  we  managed  to  find  room  on  our  persons  for  a 
few  more  of  the  precious  diamonds  before  we  pro- 
ceeded to  discuss  means  of  egress. 

When  we  came  to  think  of  the  matter  calmly  % 
very  easy  way  out  was  hit  upon.  By  removing  the 
stones  at  the  top  of  the  wall  we  should  liave  but  a 
foot  or  so  of  loose  sandy  soil  to  cave  down  into  the 


46  THE  AVUnRAPHnXE. 

well  to  mako  an  opening  through  whicli  wo  could 
crawl  out  with  but  little  difficulty.  This  plan  worked 
successfully. 

It  was  in  tho  dull  grey  of  early  morning  when  w*^ 
emerged  from  our  li'C'ing  tomb.  A  scene  of  desolation 
and  gloom  met  our  view.  As  far  as  we  could  see 
tliere  was  nothing  but  a  level  stretch  of  black  devas- 
tation. Later  we  could  see  here  and  there  little 
wreaths  of  smoke  (.'urling  upward  from  smouldering 
embers  where  the  sage-brush  had  been  unusually  large 
and  thick.  Our  wagons  and  supplies  were  reduced  to 
cinders.  The  horses  and  mules  were  dead,  the  body 
of  one  of  the  horses  lying  across  the  well  where  it  had 
fallen  in  the  last  agonies  of  death. 

Our  first  proceeding  was  to  roll  the  dead  horse  out 
of  the  way,  after  which  we  removed  the  boards  and 
drew  up  our  parcels.  For  the  first  time  since  being  lost 
we  felt  like  eating.  Our  stay  in  the  cool,  damp  treas- 
ure room  had  alla^^ed  our  thirst,  and  the  pangs  of 
hunger  now  became  uppermost.  Fortunately  our 
packages  consisted  mainly  of  canned  goods.  We 
opened  a  few  cans  of  berries,  eating  the  juicy  fruit, 
but  carefully  saving  the  liquor  in  which  they  were 
preserved  to  drink  later  in  the  day.  With  some  cold 
meat  and  crackers  we  made  out  a  very  good  break- 
fast. While  we  were  eating  the  sun  rose,  looking  like 
a  great  ball  of  blood  through  the  smoke  which  hung 
ov«T  us  like  a  pall.  As  we  looked  at  the  blood- 
like orb  no  one  said  anything  about  our  lately  ac- 
quired wealth,  but  from  the  perfect  silence  which  fell 
upon  us  it  was  evident  that  each  one  was  trying  to 


BURIED,  TREASURE.  47 

persuade  himself  that  the  vague,  uneasy  feeling  which 
stole  over  him  was  in  no  wise  due  to  the  peculiar  ap- 
pearance of  the  sun. 

Taking  our  bearings  as  well  as  we  could  we  started 
on  our  journey  back  to  the  mouatains.  The  snowy 
range  had  been  plainly  visible  the  evening  before,  but 
now  nothing  could  be  seen  through  the  smoky  atmos- 
phere. At  noon  we  drank  the  liquor  we  had  saved 
from  the  morning  meal  and  finished  the  cold  meat 
and  crackers.  We  now  had  three  cans  each  of  the 
fruit,  or  twenty-one  cans  all  told.  Of  these  we  de- 
termined to  eat  but  a  can  each  per  day,  though  we 
expected  to  reach  the  mountains  the  next  day.  As  we 
had  had  two  fair  meals,  we  omitted  supper,  and  lay 
down  at  night  on  the  blackened  ground  to  dream  of 
sparkling  streams  and  bounteous  repasts. 

The  second  morning  the  sun  rose  more  blood-like 
than  on  the  preceding  day,  and  the  smoke  still  hid  the 
mountains  from  our  view.  The  night  found  us  ap- 
parentl}"  as  far  from  our  destination  as  when  we 
started  from  the  well.  We  la^'  down  to  more  feverish 
dreams  — more  vivid  visions  of  shaded  brooks  and 
luxuriously  spread  tables;  keener  disappointment  in 
not  being  able  to  reach  them.  The  third  morning 
the  smoke  was  heavier,  the  sun  bloodier.  At  noon 
we  consumed  the  last  of  our  fruit — a  very  little 
remained,  as  hunger  had  driven  us  to  eat  more  than 
we  had  allotted  to  each  meal.  It  was  evident  by  this 
time  that  we  were  merely  wandering  round  and 
round;  had  it  been  otherwise,  we  should  have  long  ago 
reached  the  mountains.    After  our  last  scant  dinner 


48  THE  AlltOIlArHOM:. 

the  blood-liko  sun  seemed  to  affect  our  brains.  We 
talked  blood,  blood  to  drink,  blood  to  quentix  our 
burning  thirst.  We  had  seen  no  living  thing  besides 
ourselves  since  we  took  leave  of  the  horses  and  mules, 
yet  we  constantly  talked  of  killing  some  wild  animal 
whose  blood  we  might  drink.  Again  and  again  we 
repeated  the  fancy  with  but  little  variation.  In  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon  we  came  upon  a  human  skele- 
ton, the  bones  somewhat  bla(;kened  by  the  fire  which 
had  passed  over  it.  In  examining  it  we  found  under 
the  bones  of  the  right  hand  a  little  heap  of  diamonds 
and  gold  coins  and  the  charred  remains  of  a  leathern 
purse  that  had  contained  them.  The  jewels  and  coins 
were  so  sitnilar  to  those  in  our  possession  that  we 
could  not  doubt  that  they  came  from  the  same 
treasure  pile.  Some  other  unfortunate  ha,d  found 
the  treasure  room  and  had  endeavored  to  profit 
by  his  discovery,  and  here  he  lay  at  our  feet  a  ter- 
rible witness  to  the  folly  of  any  such  attempt. 
But  instead  of  paying  any  attention  to  the  ghastly 
warning,  we  appropriated  the  newly  found  gems 
and  coins  with  a  promptness  and  disregard  of  con- 
sequences that  makes  me  shudder  now  as  I  think 
of  it. 

We  rested  here  for  some  time.  I  was  the  weakest 
one  of  the  party  and  would  be  the  first,  in  all  proba- 
bility, to  fall  by  tlif^  wayside.  They  had  all  been  very 
kind  to  me,  helping  and  encouraging  me  in  many 
ways.  As  we  rested  we  again  fell  to  talking  about 
the  wild  animal  (soon  to  be  caught,  Jim  assured  me) 
the  blood  of  which  would  revive  our  failing  strength. 


BURIED  TREASURE.  49 

Then  some  one  proposed  that  as  soon  as  any  of  us 
became  ('omi)letely  exhausted  lie  should  be  killed  and 
his  blood  druidv  by  tlie  others.  We  all  agreed  to  this. 
I  was  but  dindy  conscious  of  its  import,  and  besides  1 
felt  my  ability  to  keep  up  for  a  few  days  longer  and  we 
should  find  our  way  out  by  that  time.  Then  one  of 
the  students  suggested  that  we  adopt  a  plan  that 
should  give  the  weakest  an  equal  chance  with  the 
others.  *'We  should  drawlots,"  he  said,  "to determine 
which  one  of  us  should  be  sacrificed  for  the  common 
good."  This  seemed  the  better  plan  to  me,  and  it  w^as 
(^urely  just  and  right.  I  advocated  it  as  well  as  1 
could.  Jim,  who  was  the  strongest  and  bravest  of  us 
all,  also  favored  it;  indeed,  there  was  but  little  opposi- 
tion raised,  and  we  adopted  this  last  proposition 
nearly  as  readily  as  we  had  the  first  one.  We  further 
concluded  to  draw  lots  at  once  to  see  which  of  us  was 
to  be  the  first  victim,  who,  on  any  of  us  becoming  ex- 
hausted, would  be  put  to  the  knife.  Seven  slips  of  pa- 
per, {ill  blank  but  one,  on  which  was  written  "Death," 
were  prepared.  One  of  the  party  had  picked  up  the 
skull  of  the  skeleton,  and  the  slips  of  paper  were  now 
deposited  in  it  and  mixed  up.  The  ghastly  ballot  box 
was  passed  around,  each  one  drawing  out  one  of  the 
slips.  Whoever  drew  the  "Death"  slip  was  doomed. 
Mine  was  blank.  A  painful  silence  ensued  after  the 
drawing.  On  looking  around  1  discovered  that  Jim's 
face  had  blanched  white,  and  I  was  sure  it  was  he  who 
had  drawn  the  fatal  slip.  True,  generous,  noble  Jim ! 
He,  so  stout  and  strong;  but  his  blood  w^ould  be  all 
the  better  for  that,  and  I  already  thirsted  for  it.    I 

4 


50  THE  AUROIiAPHONE. 

knew  I  could  not  struggle  on  for  another  half-hour,  for 
I  was  already  exhausted.  Gentle,  kind,  patient  Jim! 
I  liked  to  dwell  on  his  gentler  virtues,  for  they  encour- 
aged my  hop(^  that  he  would  yield  yul)missively,  and  I 
sliould  soon  be  drinking  his  blood.  Had  it  been  any 
of  the  others  1  should  have  feared  their  resistance  at 
the  time  of  sacrifice.  Presently  Jim  held  up  the  slip  of 
paper  on  which  was  written  "Death,"  disclosing  him- 
self to  be  the  victim.  His  face  was  still  white,  but 
seemed  resolute  and  determined.  He  let  the  slip  fall 
to  the  blackened  ground  and  said  doggedly:  ''The 
man  that  drinks  my  blood'll  be  a  hustler."  It  was 
also  evident  to  my  mind  that  if  there  was  going  to  l)e 
any  blood  drunk,  Jim  would  get^his  share  of  it,  and  a 
great  fear  possessed  me. 

Shortly  afterwards  we  resumed  our  painful  march. 
I  kept  away  from  Jim  as  far  as  possible,  though  here- 
tofore he  had  helped  and  encouraged  me  more  than 
any  of  the  others.  I  was  very  fearful  now  that  mat- 
ters would  take  their  natural  course  and  the  weaker 
fall  a  prey  to  the  stronger,  and  I  accordingly  kept  a 
close  watch  on  Jim's  movements.  That  night  we 
slept  but  little.  We  had  become  suspicious,  afraid, 
and  watchful  of  one  another,  and  we  dared  not  sleep. 
All  the  next  day  these  feelings  increased  and  our  suffer- 
ings grew  more  intense.  A  little  before  sun-down  Jim 
had  taken  from  his  pocket  a  large  clasp  knife  and  was 
carrying  it  open  in  his  right  hand.  I  felt  that  I 
should  become  a  victim  before  the  great  bloody  orb, 
now  sinking  in  the  west,  rose  again.  1  made  up  my 
mind  that  when  night  came  I  should  slip  away  from 


BURIED  TREASURE.  51 

the  others  and  try  to  find  my  way  out  of  the  desert 
alone. 

Overcome  witli  exhaustion  and  the  vigils  of  the 
night  before,  it  was  no  sooner  dark  than  we  all  sank 
down,  ap[)arent]y  to  sleep.  When  I  felt  certain  that 
all  the  others  were  sleeping  1  cautiously  crawled  away 
on  my  hands  and  knees..  I  had  got  but  a  little  way 
when,  looking  back,  1  saw  two  half  stooping  forms  com- 
ing after  me.  I  at  once  rose  to  my  feet  and  tried  to 
run,  but  after  a  few  staggering  steps  I  fell,  and  a  mo- 
ment later  two  of  the  students  were  bending  over  me, 
knives  in  their  hands  and  a  fiendish  light  Hashing 
from  their  eyes.  They  raised  their  knives  to  strike, 
but  at  that  instant  Jim  came  sweeping  down  upon  us 
brandishing  his  knife.  "Back,  you  dogs!"  he  cried 
hoarsely,  and  with  one  sweep  of  his  arm  he  hurled 
their  weakened  bodies  to  the  ground.  I  clung  to  his 
legs  begging  him  to  save  me.  The  students  slunk  away, 
my  protector  glowering  at  them  savagely.  But  now 
Jim  was  glaring  down  on  me  hke  a  demon.  His  eyes 
were  those  of  a  savage  beast  and  his  lips  curled  away 
from  his  white  gleaming  teeth.  I  closed  my  eyes.  He 
clutched  my  shoulder  and  shook  me  savagely.  Again 
1  looked  up  into  his  face,  but  ithadlost  its  demoniacal 
expression,  indeed,  it  looked  kindly  and  jolly  as  he 
said:  ''Come,  get  up,  old  boy;  dinner's  ready  and 
you've  had  a  long  sleep." 

Yes,  it  was  all  a  horrible  dream.  Awake  all  the 
night  before,  1  had  succumbed  to  nature  and  fallen  into 
a  troubled  sleep  almost  immediately  after  getting 
into  the  wagon,  its  easy, noiseless  motion  through  the 


52  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

yielding  sand  being  conducive  to  slumber.  The  red 
appearance  of  the  sun  in  the  morning,  the  smoky 
atmosphere,  the  talk  about  the  underground  channel 
and  of  finding  diamonds  and  gold,  the  fear  of  getting 
lost  and  the  fact  tluit  1  had  grown  very  thirsty  during 
my  sleep  had  done  all  the  rest.  A  glance  at  my  very 
lean  pocket-book  would  account  for  my  desire  for  dia- 
monds, and  my  clinging  to  them  so  tenaciously  in  the 
face  of  such  warnings  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  in 
dreams  we  lose  the  moral  sense  altogether,  which  also 
explains  my  greedy  willingness  to  drink  my  compan- 
ion's blood.  And  I  trust  it  will  be  borne  in  mind  that 
the  more  active  and  exacting  the  moral  sense  is,  in 
waking  hours,  the  wilder  and  more  reckless  it  is  liable 
to  be  when  freed  from  its  restraints  by  sleep. 

We  had  arrived  at  a  clear  stream,  threading  its  way 
through  a  grassy  valley.  My  comrades  had  prepared 
dinner,  kindly  allowing  me  to  sleep  till  it  was  ready. 
The  mules  and  horses,  which  I  never  expected  to  see 
again,  looked  fat  and  sleek  and  the  very  picture  of 
content,  as  they  fed  on  the  grass,  fresh  and  green. 
The  boys  were  alive  and  jolly.  A  delightful  breeze  was 
supplying  invigoration  and  good  cheer  in  a  most 
wholesome  and  luxurious  way.  The  atmosphere  had 
cleared  up,  the  sun  was  shining  brightly,  the  distant 
mountains  to  east  and  west  lifted  their  purple  silvery 
heights  to  laughing  blue  skies,  and  life  never  seemed 
brighter  or  fairer  than  when  we  sat  down  to  as  good  a 
repast  as  any  1  had  seen  in  my  dreams. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  lovers'   spring. 

Dinner  disposed  of,  we  were  soon  under  way  apain. 
A  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  stream  the  grassy  strip 
merged  into  the  monotonous  sage-brush,  but  the 
road  was  well  defined  and  easily  followed. 

We  were  in  high  spirits,  the  effect  of  the  cham- 
pagne-like atmosphere  in  reality,  but  to  all  appear- 
ance we  had  undergone  a  change  of  state,  for  there 
was  nothing  in  our  surroundings  to  account  for  the 
intense  joy  we  felt  in  the  mere  fact  that  we  were  alive. 
On  the  contrary  our  environment  was  the  very 
abomination  of  desolation— a  sandy,  sage-brush  plain 
— and  yet  our  internal  state  was  as  perfect  as  if  we 
had  been  transported  to  the  garden  of  Eden  itself.  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that  this  is  the  site  of  the 
Adamic  paradise,  and  that  the  cherubim  and  sword 
are  but  typical  of  sand  and  sage-brush. 

Towards  sundown,  as  we  came  to  no  stream  or 
ranch,  we  began  to  fear  that  we  should  have  to  make  a 
"dry  camp."  This  would  be  no  ^reat  hardship,  as  we 
had  no  apprehensions  of  being  lost  and  we  should 
reach  the  Kio  Grande  by  noon  the  following  day. 
However,  camping  without  water  is  inconvenient, 
and  we  should  travel  late  rather  than  stop  before  we 
found  it. 

53 


54  THE  AFRORAPHONE. 

The  sun  was  now  settiii^j;  in  true  royal  splendor. 
Two  banks  of  clouds,  one  of  light,  fleecy  masses,  the 
other  of  darker  hue,  near  the  horizon,  appeared  to  be 
vying  with  each  other  in  a  display  of  gorgeous  coloring. 
The  exquisite  tints  of  orange  and  red, exhibited  by  tlie 
lighter  mass,  seemed  matched  against  the  umgniticent 
purple  and  gold  of  the  darker  one.  It  was  grand  and 
beautiful  beyond  description,  as  all  sunsets  are.  And 
what  is  it  that  gives  to  these  airy,  ephemeral  visions 
their  transcendent  charms?  We  all  delight  in  them 
and  yet  they  are  but  a  chaos  of  rich  colors.  Is  it  that 
they  furnish  to  the  mind  a  richness  and  plenitude  of 
material  which  the  fancy  may  build  into  shapes  and 
pictures  to  suit  itself,  or  do  they  merely  speak  of  a 
glory  and  sublimity  beyond  the  world,  where  still 
more  splendid  hues  and  far  more  luminous  material 
are  wrought  into  enchanting  forms  of  beauty,  to  do- 
light  the  spirits  of  the  blest?  But  is  there  any  abso- 
lute beyond?  We  have  already  come  through  the 
valley  of  shadows,  crossed  the  Delectable  Mountains 
and  drunk  in  the  ecstacies  of  this  heavenly,  balmy  re- 
gion, and  now  before  us  we  see  in  cloudland  still  more 
entrancing  visions  of  loveliness  beckoning  and  luring 
us  on,  and  will  it  not  ever  be  thus  now  and  hereafter? 

We  traveled  on  till  nine  o'clock,  when  fortunately 
we  came  to  a  large  tank  surmounted  by  a  wind-mill. 
There  was  no  habitation  near,  and  we  supposed  the 
tank  and  well  had  been  erected  in  that  lonely  place  to 
water  stock.  The  tank  was  empty,  but  the  well 
afforded  an  abundance  of  water,  so  that  we  camped 
very  comfortably. 


THE  LOVERS'  SPRLXG.  r>r, 

By  the  middle  of  the  following  forenoon  we  had 
reached  prairie  land  and  were  rolling  along  on  a  good 
hard  road  at  a  lively  rate.  We  had  been  told  of  the 
pleasures  of  a  swim  in  the  Rio  Grande,  and  the  fine 
sand  and  dust  of  the  regions  through  which  we  had 
been  driving  made  us  literally  itch  for  the  luxury  of  a 
bath ;  besides,  we  were  all  good  swimmers,  and  antici- 
pated no  little  fun  when  we  arrived  at  the  beautiful 
river.  At  ten  o'clock  we  could  see  the  line  of  trees 
that  marked  the  course  of  the  river  through  the  San 
Luis  valle}'^,  and  an  hour  later  we  had  reached  the 
Mecca  of  our  desires.  We  were  at  first  disappointed 
to  find"  the  river  broad  and  shallow,  dashing  along 
over  and  around  great  boulders.  But  surely  we 
should  find  deep  pools  before  we  journeyed  far  up  the 
stream,  and  so  it  proved.  We  soon  came  to  ai  se- 
cluded spot  that  would  make  a  splendid  place  to 
camp,  and  near  by  a  deep,  still  pool  that  would  make 
a  famous  place  to  swim.  Hardly  waiting  to  "picket 
out"  the  teams,  we  all  rushed  down  to  the  river  and 
engaged  in  a  lively  race  to  be  the  first  one  in,  with  the 
result  that  we  all  made  the  plunge  nearly  at  the  same 
time;  and  what  an  icy  plunge  it  was,  and  with  what 
utterly  crazy  haste  we  got  out  again.  With  gasps 
like  the  exhaust  of  a  locomotive  we  vigorously  ap- 
plied our  Turkish  towels,  and  after  having  donned 
our  clothes  the  glow  of  warmth  and  good  feeling  we 
experienced  convinced  us  that  a  swim  in  the  Rio 
Grande  was  all  tliat  was  claimed  for  it,  but  that  was 
our  first  and  last  swim  in  the  noble  stream.  Two 
days  later,  at  noon,  we  were  camped  near  the  river 


56  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

many  miles  a])Ove  Del  Is'orte,  and  but  a  frw  miles  from 
Wagon  ^^■lleel  Gap. 

AVe  were  now  in  the  mountain  fastnesses.  I^very- 
where  were  great  rocky  masses  towering  upward  to 
the  skies.  There  were  numerous  caverns,  (.-anons, 
gorges  and  vaile^^s  inviting  exploration,  and  we  de- 
cided to  camp  a  day  or  two  in  this  ])icturesque  region. 

Just  as  we  were  sitting  down  to  dinner  a  horseman 
rode  up.  With  true  Western  hos])itality  he  invited 
himself  to  dinner  before  we  had  time  to  extend  the  in- 
vitation. We  were  onl}^  too  glad  to  exchange  the 
best  our  larder  afforded  for  the  experiences  of  any  of 
these  "old  timers"  such  as  our  guest  appeared  to  be. 
He  had  been  up  to  "the  Gap"  and  was  on  his  way 
home,  about  ten  miles  farther  down  the  river.  He 
had  a  fund  of  information  and  anecdote  of  the  region 
from  Alamosa  up  to  the  San  Juan  country.  He  had 
b(  en  an  eye  witness  to  a  tragic  event  that  had  oc- 
curred a  little  over  a  year  before,  and  very  near  the 
place  where  we  were  then  camping.  AA'e  had  heard  the 
story  before,  but  to  have  it  told  b^'^  one  who  could 
vouch  for  every  particular  was  a  treat  we  had  not  ex- 
l)ected.  In  a  valley  to  the  west  of  us  and  probably  a 
(piarter  of  a,  mile  distant  stood  a  deserted  house, 
which,  two  years  previous,  had  been  the  home  of 
John  Andrews,  a  well-to-do  stockman.  He  had  an 
amiable  wife  and  three  children.  His  sister,  Jennie 
Andrews,  at  the  death  of  their  mother,  their  only 
surviving  parent,  had  given  up  the  school  she  had 
been  teaching  in  Illinois  and  had  come  west  to  make 
her  home  with  her  brother. 


THE  LOVERS'  SPRING.  57 

The  fair  Jennie  was  soon  besieged  by  suitors  for 
her  hand,  but  the  contest  quickly  narrowed  down  tq. 
two  contestants,  Mose  Skein  and  Edward  Laird. 
Skein  was  a  broncho  breaker  in  the  employ  of  Mr. 
Andrews.  He  was  handsome,  honest,  brave  and  free- 
hearted, and  the  young  lady's  preference.  But  Ed- 
ward Laird,  a  neighboring  ranchman,  was  ''well- 
heeled,"  that  is,  owned  a  drove  of  cattle,  a  good  ranch 
and  a  number  of  horses,  and  was  Mr.  and  Mrs.  An- 
drews' choice.  The  young  lady,  however,  had  a  will 
of  her  own,  and  could  not  be  persuaded  nor  coerced 
into  accepting  the  rich  lover.  Skein  had  been  dis- 
charged by  Mr.  Andrews  on  a  mere  pretext,  for  no 
other  purpose  than  to  discourage  his  suit.  He  was 
forbidden  the  house,  but  the  lovers  met  occasionally 
at  a  dance  or  social  gathering.  Then  thoy  designated 
a  trysting  place  where  they  met  more  frequently,  and 
often  left  letters  for  each  other. 

Laird,  having  failed  to  win  the  ladj^'s  love  by  fair 
means,  had  not  hesitated  to  resort  to  foul,  in  getting 
rid  of  his  successful  rival.  Mose  being  Jn  love  and 
"all  broke  up,"  had  not,  at  once,  tried  to  get  work, 
when  he  found  himself  out  of  employment.  He  stayed 
at  Del  Norte  most  of  the  time,  and  like  young  men  of 
his  social  disposition  out  of  work,  was  frequently 
found  having  a  good  time  with  the ''roughs"  of  the 
vicinity.  A  number  of  horses  had  been  stolen  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  some  one  had  fastened  suspicion 
upon  Skein,  who,  it  may  be  said,  was  perfectly  inno- 
cent. But  such  evidence  had  been  laid  before  the  vigi- 
lance committee  that  it   warned  Skein  to  quit  the 


58  THE  AURORA  PHONE. 

country  inside  of  twenty-four  hours  under  prnnlty  of 
,death.  This  warning  was  a"  leniency  not  usually 
shown  by  the  committee,  and  had  been  secured  with 
difficulty  by  warm  personal  friends  of  Mose,  who 
could  not  bring  themselves  to  believe  in  his  guilt. 
Mose,  while  knowing  that  he  was  wrongly  suspected, 
yet  knew  that  his  best  policy  for  the  present  was  to 
"make  himself  scarce"  for  a  few  months.  Laird,  be- 
lieving that  Skein  would  not  leave  without  first  seeing 
his  sweetheart  and  that  he  could  not  accomplish  this 
in  the  specified  twenty -four  hours,  had  gathered  to- 
gether some  of  the  vigilants  and  set  them  to  watch 
the  premises  of  Mr.  Andrews.  On  the  second  night 
after  the  edict  Skein  had  ridden  to  within  half  a  mile  of 
the  Andrews  ranch,  tied  his  horse  in  a  grove  of  trees 
and  was  making  his  way  on  foot  to  the  trysting  place, 
when  he  was  suddenly  halted  by  the  vigilants  and 
commanded  to  ''throw  up  his  hands."  Skein,  how- 
ever, trusting  to  the  darkness,  had  made  a  break  for 
life  and  liberty.  No  shots  were  fired,  for  the  men  had 
noticed  what  Skein  in  his  excitement  had  not,  that  he 
fied  up  a  cafion  which  terminated  in  abrupt  walls  and 
from  whicli  no  human  being  could  escape  except 
through  the  outlet  which  they  held.  At  the  further 
end  of  the  cafion  was  a  pool  or  large  spring  remark- 
able for  the  fact  that  no  bottom  had  ever  been  dis- 
covered to  it.  The  vigilants  had  immediately  given 
chase,  and,  closely  pursued,  Skein  had  been  brought 
to  a  standstill  on  the  edge  of  the  pool.  Knowing 
that  death  by  hanging  awaited  him  if  he  fell  into  the 
hands   of  his   relentless    pursuers,  h<>  had  preferred 


THE  LOVERS'  SPRING.  59 

death  by  drowning.  He  plnnged  into  the  spring  and 
sunk  and  sunk  until  no  trace  of  the  dead  body  was 
ever  seen. 

The  death  of    her  lover  had  nearly  killed  Jennie 
Andrews.    So  great  was  the  shock  that  for  a  week 
her  friends  despaired  of    her  life.     Then  she  rallied 
somewhat  and  to  the  surprise  of  every  one  had  favored 
the  suit  of  her  rich  lover.    A  few  weeks  later  her  en- 
gagement to  Laird  was  announced  and  friends  were 
invited  to  the  wedding,  w^hich  was  to  take  place  on 
the  16th  of  August,  just  two  months  from  the  day  on 
which  her  lover  had  drowned  himself.    Many  invita- 
tions had  been  given  and  a  joyful  time  was  antici- 
pated.   The  wedding  eve  arrived,  and  many  guests, 
among  whom  was  the  narrator,  had  assembled  at  the 
Andrews  home  to  witness  the  ceremony  and  to  join  in 
the  festivities  of  the  occasion.    The  bride  elect  had 
been  arrayed  in  her  wedding  dress,  and  a  few  minutes 
before  8  p.  m.,  the  hour  set  for  the  solemn  rite,  had 
asked  to  be  left  alone  in  her  room.    The  bridesmaid 
withdrew.    A  few  minutes  after  8  o'clock,  becoming 
impatient  at  the  young  lady's  delay,  they  rapped  at 
her  door,  but  received  no  response.    The  door  was 
then  pushed  open ;   a  window  was  up  and  Jennie  was 
missing.     On  making  this  discovery  several  hurried 
outside.    A  white  form  was  seen  flitting  up  the  canon 
towards  the  bottomless  pool.    Her  brother  and  lover, 
divining  her  intent,  put  forth  all  their  speed  to  inter- 
cept her  and  prevent  her  self-destruction.    But  she 
reached  the  pool  fifty  yards  in  advance  of  her  pursu- 
ers, and  with  a  wild,  mocking  laugh  that  chilled  them 


60  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

with  horror,  the  loyal  girl  that  ])referred  the  arms  of 
Death  to  those  of  a  selfish,  cruel  husband,  plunged 
into  the  dark  waters.  Our  guest,  who  had  closely  fol- 
lowed the  brother  and  lover  in  their  pursuit,  had 
heard  the  mad  laugh  and  seen  the  fatal  plunge.  The 
body  was  never  recovered,  as  that  dark,  frightful,  bot- 
tomless pool  never  gave  up  its  dead. 

Laird,  suffering  bitter  disappointment,  and  know- 
ing himself  a  double  murderer,  had  become  insane,  and 
from  his  wild  ravings  enough  had  been  gathered  to  dis- 
close that  it  was  he  who  had  driven  Skein  to  his  death 
by  his  misrepresentations  to  the  vigilants.  The  walls 
of  a  mad-house  in  the  far  east  alone  protected  him 
from  the  vengeance  of  those  friends  of  Skein,  of  whom 
our  informant  was  one,  who  had  so  warmly  defended 
him  before  the  vigilance-committee.  The  Andrewses, 
conscience-stricken  at  their  own  part  in  the  tragedy, 
soon  moved  far  away  from  the  scene  of  the  sad  affair. 
But  surely  distance  will  not  enable  them  to  forget  the 
sweet  young  sister  whom  they  helped  to  drive  to  her 
death. 

Rumor  said  that  the  ♦'  Lovers'  Pool,"  so  it  had  been 
named,  was  haunted.  Our  guest,  ''for  himself,"  be- 
lieved it.  <'I  aint  no  skolar,"  he  said,  ''nor  no  grate 
shakes  for  nateral  abilit}^  but  twenty  years  in  these 
diggins  has  pounded  a  lot  of  hard  horse  sense  into  my 
head,  if  I  do  say  it  myself,  and  I'm  not  likely  to  see 
ghosts  in  my  mind.  If  I  war  I'd  receive  a  visit  once 
and  a  while  from  the  spirit  of  Dan  Cable,  who  allowed 
one  day  that  I  lied  about  some  calves  of  mine  which  he 
had  branded.    As  Dan  got  up,  he  drew  his  pop,  but  I 


THE  LOVERS'  SPRING.  61 

got  the  drop  on  him  and  his  funeral  took  place  next 
day.  The  boys  all  said  it  war  far  and  squar  and  as 
purty  shootin  as  they  ever  seed.  Then  Bill  Wright, 
down  to  Del  Norte,  got  huffy  over  a  game  of  poker 
and  want  going  to  be  sociable,  declined  pint  blank  to 
drink  with  me  when  I  called  all  the  boys  up  to  drink  in 
Dave  Blank's  s'loon.  Well,  it  come  to  shootin  and  Bill 
war  buried  that  afternoon.  Some  of  the  boys  kicked 
and  1  war  a'rested,  leastwise  I  war  taken  before  'the 
gang'  for  exzaminashun.  But  ole  Jedge  Blackstone 
got  up  and  jest  give  'em  law  from  his  finger  tips.  He 
adjudicated  that  if  social  customs  war  going  to  be 
vierlated  and  tromped  under  foot  we  might  as  well 
invite  anarky  and  lawlessness  to  roost  with  us,  and 
dispense  with  the  dignity  and  majesty  of  the  law  to 
once,  and  that  when  gentlemen  refused  to  drink  with 
each  other  every  loyal  citizen  war  bound  to  protect 
himself.  Ther  boys  jest  wilted  under  that  and  I  wan't 
molested  no  more.  Then  ther  war  Ike  Steel,  and  well 
named  he  war,  for  he'd  steal  cattle  and  butcher  'em, 
burning  or  hurrying  the  hides  so  the  brands  wouldn't 
give  him  away.  But  once  we  caught  him  skinnin  a 
steer  with  Andrews's  brand  onto  it.  We  hustled  him 
off  to  some  trees,  and  I've  never  denied  that  I  put  the 
noose  around  his  neck,  throwed  the  rope  over  a  limb, 
got  on  my  bronco,  wrapping  the  end  of  the  rope 
around  my  saddle  horn,  and  set  my  pony  to  bucking 
in  a  way  that  broke  the  thief's  neck  at  about  the  sec- 
ond pitch  he  made,  and  I  am  shure  that  war  more 
gentler  than  to  strangle  him  by  degrees.  But  none 
o'ther  spirits  ever  bothered  me.  No  sir,  I've  no  spook- 


62  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

ish  squGtimishness  in  my  make  up,  but  I've  seed  sights 
around  that  ther  spring  that  has  made  me  a  better 
man  and  made  me  believe  in  spirits  and  heaven — yes, 
and  made  me  feel  awful  sorry  about  Bill  Wright. 
What  I've  seed  with  my  own  eyes's  nuff  to  make  me 
jine  meetin.  I've  seed  them  two  poor  innocent  lovers 
a  sitting  by  that  pool,  she  with  her  wedding  dress  all 
white  and  a  long  shiney  veil,  and  Mose  in  his  brown 
canvas  coat  and  leather  schaps  with  the  water  a 
trieklin  off  the  leather  fringes,  and  their  faces  shining 
awful  white  in  the  moonlight.  I'd  see  'em  only  for  a 
little  while,  then  Jennie' d  put  her  arms  around  Mose's 
neck  and  together  they'd  disappear  in  that  awful  deep 
spring." 

At  the  word  ''moonlight"  Mel  and  I  had  exchanged 
glances.  Further  inquiries  elicited  the  fact  that  it  was 
on  cloudy,  moonlight  nights  that  the  spirits  of  the 
lovers  had  been  seen.  By  one  whose  mind  had  received 
the  shock  of  seeing  the  young  lady  drown  herself, 
patches  of  moving  moonlight  would  be  easily  mistaken 
for  the  forms  of  those  so  vivid  in  his  fancy.  Still,  as 
his  superstition  made  him  a  better  man  we  had  no 
desire  to  disabuse  his  mind.  After  he  had  ridden 
away  we  fell  to  discussing  whether  we  did  right  in 
making  no  effort  to  show  him  the  error  of  his  belief  in 
ghosts.  It  was  a  question  if  we  should  not  have 
insisted  upon  convincing  him  of  the  truth  that  the 
ghosts  were  in  his  mind— even  if  his  moral  nature  did 
suffer  by  it?  Then  I  extended  the  question  to  Christi- 
anity itself.  Was  it  not  a  mere  ghost  story  which 
had  been  long  and  successfully  employed  to  induce  the 


THE  LOVERS'  SPRING.  63 

superstitious  to  live  better  lives?  Six  of  the  party 
were  emi)hatic  in  denying  that  it  was  any  such  story, 
and  1  was  glad  to  concede  that  if  it  were,  it  was  the 
grandest  triunipli  of  human  reason,  and  must  rank 
foremost  as  a  civilizing  and  humanizing  institution, 
that  it  had  been  essential  to  moral  progress,  and  that 
only  harm  could  result  in  any  attempt  to  suddenly 
disillusionize  its  devotees. 

After  diimcr  we  start(^d  out  according  to  the  direc- 
tions given  us  by  the  erstwhile  bold,  bad  ranchman, 
'^Bill  Mundy,  Esq.,"  as  he  gave  his  name,  to  find  the 
Lovers'  Pool.  It  proved  to  be  in  a  wild,  lonely  gorge, 
whi(;h  at  no  place  was  over  twenty  feet  wide.  Pine 
and  spruce  trees  grew  along  its  sides  close  to  the  walls. 
In  places  high  up  over  our  heads,  where  a  crack  in  the 
rock  had  admitted  a  scant  supply  of  earth,  a  thrifty 
pine  would  be  seen  growing  apparently  out  of  the 
solid  rock.  Here  and  there  were  great  fissures  and 
cr(3vices  where  the  mighty  forces  that  had  upheaved 
these  stupendous  hills  had  split  the  rocks  with  reports 
th?i,t  must  have  far  exceeded  the  most  terrific  peals  of 
thunder. 

The  pool,  owing  to  the  deep  shade  thrown  upon  it 
by  the  towering  walls  of  the  canon,  looked  dark  and 
mysterious.  No  eye  could  penetrate  more  than  a  few 
inches  below  its  placid  surface.  It  was  nearly  round, 
about  ten  feet  in  diameter,  and,  as  has  been  said,  of 
unknown  depth.  Two  posts  had  been  set  m  the 
ground  eight  feet  apart,  and  near  the  edge  of  the  pool. 
To  these  had  been  wired  a  stout  ])ole  after  the  manner 
of  building  pole  fences  in  the  west,  which  was  probably 


64  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

intended  as  a  protection  against  tlie  intrusion  of 
stock.  Like  other  deep  springs  in  that  region,  the 
water  was  rather  warm  and  of  a  somewhat  brackish 
taste.  Mel  had  leaned  far  over  the  pole  trying  to  peer 
into  the  water.  Jim  banteringly  asked  him  to  try  a 
drink  of  it.  ''No,"  Mel  had  answered,  "  I'll  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  it."  Just  at  that  instant  one  of  the 
posts,  which  had  rotted  almost  away  in  the  damp 
earth,  sna,])ped  asunder  and  Mel  was  precipitated 
headlong  into  the  pool.  The  accident  immediately 
following  his  words,  and  never  dreaming  but  that 
drowning  was  optional  with  those  who  plunged  into 
the  pool,  we  all  broke  into  a  loud  laugh.  Then  as 
Mel  did  not  instantly  reappear  an  awful  silence  fell 
upon  us.  Another  breathless  instant  and  the  wildest 
consternation  seized  us.  Still  madly  hoping  that  Mel 
was  playing  a  trick  on  us  we  gazed  eagerly  at  the 
pool,  now  setthng  again  into  its  cruel  placidity,  for 
some  moments  before  we  made  a  move.  But  what 
could  we  do?  We  were  utterly  powerless  to  save  him, 
or  to  recover  tlie  body.  Jim  hurried  back  to  the 
wagons  and  got  our  ropes  and  lines  and  a  piece  of 
heavy  wire  with  which  we  made  a  grappling  hook, 
and  every  endea^vor  was  made  to  recover  the  body. 
Surely  our  companion  could  not  be  thus  suddenly 
swept  from  our  sight  forever.  Could  I  be  dreaming 
again?  For  a  moment  I  felt  a  deep  feeling  of  relief. 
Surely  it  was  one  of  my  terrible  nervous  dreams.  But 
no,  there  was  the  pool,  the  boys  with  white,  grief- 
stricken  faces,  the  canon,  the  trees— all  convinced  me 
that  1  was  awake  and  Mel's  loss  a  terrible  reality. 


THE  LOVERS'  SPRLNG.  65 

We  may  mistake  our  dreams  for  realities,  but  we  can- 
not mistake  our  waking  impressions  for  dreams.  For 
a  half-hour  we  continued  working-  to  recover  the  body 
before  we  gave  up  in  despair.  Then  we  beheld  a  sight 
which  for  once  and  forever  swept  away  all  skepticism 
that  we  may  have  entertained  as  regards  the  ranch- 
man's story  of  the  spirits.  We  had  just  raised  up 
from  our  knees,  as  we  had  been  kneeling  around  the 
pool  in  our  fruitless  labors,  when  there,  not  over  fifteen 
feet  distant  from  us,  stood  the  form  of  Mel.  The  face 
was  of  a  deadly  pallor,  and  locks  of  wet  hair  hung  over 
the  marble  brow.  The  countenance  was  pinched  and 
rigid;  the  glassy  eyes  were  wide  open  and  staring 
straight  into  the  water  at  which  the  rigid  upraised 
right  arm  and  hand  also  pointed.  Noiselessly  the 
spectre  glided  to  the  brink  of  the  pool  and  silently 
disappeared  into  its  dark  depths. 

Our  grief  was  now  transformed  into  an  awful 
horror.  I  could  but  feel  that  this  apparition  was  a 
spiritual  visitant,  calling  on  me  to  plunge  into  the 
fatal  pool  and  join  my  cousin.  The  others  also  felt 
that  they  had  received  a  special  summons  to  the 
spirit  world.  In  our  terror  and  agitation  we  did  not, 
we  could  not,  think  calmly.  We  acted  wholly  on 
impulse  and  in  a  condition  of  mind  bordering  on 
frenzy.  This  ocular  demonstration  of  that  in  which 
we  had  always  disbelieved  unbalanced  us.  Our  com- 
plete liberation  from  superstition  proved  our  bane,  for 
had  we  believed  in  ghosts,  we  should  have  been,  un- 
doubtedly, better  prepared  to  act  rationally  in  such  an 
emergency.    We  were  but  a  few  moments  in  resolving 


60  THE  AURORAPHOSE. 

on  suicide.  Sclf-dcst ruction,  in  tho  face  of  what  hail 
just  occurred,  lost  all  its  disagreeable  features.  It 
could  not  be  wronjr,  for  we  were  obeying  a  supernat- 
ural summons  which  we  dared  not  resist.  It  was 
speedily  arranged  that  in  solemn  procession  we  should 
ent(^r  the  other  world  through  the  ])ortal  of  the  dark, 
treacherous  pool.  Allowing  four  minutes  interval 
between  each  plunge  we  should  follow  one  after  the 
other  in  taking  the  fatal  headlong  leap.  1  was  in  \\^^ 
wise  loath  to  take  the  lead  in  this  justifiable  suicide, 
and  without  a  moment's  hesitancy  I  sprang  head- 
foremost into  the  pool.  I  sank  rapidly  for  several 
feet,  then  came  the  wild  uncontroUable  desire  to  live. 
I  had  always  had  great  will  power,  and  now  I  thought 
by  sheer  force  of  will  I  would  overcome  the  spell  of 
the  water  that  had  so  relentlessly  destroyed  others. 
1  essayed  to  rise  again  to  the  surface,  but  a  weight 
like  that  of  a  mountain  mercilessly  hold  me  down. 
But  1  was  determined  and  lunged  frantically.  Thank 
heaven,  I  rose  as  rapidly  as  I  had  sunk.  But  what 
was  my  surprise  to  come  up  in  a  strange  place  — a 
lovely  little  grotto  with  a  soft,  subdued  light,  but  from 
the  fact  that  my  eyes  had  been  shut  while  in  the  dark 
waters  I  could  see  distinctly  immediately  on  coming 
to  the  surface.  There  was  the  ghost  in  the  very 
unangelic  act  of  wringing  out  a  pair  of  socks.  The 
truth  broke  upon  me  in  a  flash.  My  first  sensation 
was  a  thrill  of  exquisite  pleasure  at  the  thought  that 
the  lovers— Mose  and  Jennie— had  escaped  after  all. 
My  second  sensation  at  the  thought  that  1  myself  had 
escaped  was  also  a  thrill   of  pleasure,  but  not  so 


THh:  LOVERS'  SPRING.  67 

intense  as  the  first  one.  Then  I  was  glad  to  find  Mel 
alive,  even  though  he  had  played  such  a  joke  on  us. 
His  face  was  still  splotched  with  white,  and  an  open 
box  of  Lily  White  lying  near  him,  which  he  had 
found  in  the  grotto,  exi)lained  the  corpse-like  appear- 
ance of  the  ghost.  The  cosmetic  had  suggested  to 
Mel  the  idea  of  whiting  up  and  playing  ghost.  Its 
presence  there  also  indicated  that  the  grotto  had  had 
a  lady  tenant,  and  who  could  it  have  been  but  Jennie 
Andrews?  But  I  had  no  sooner  taken  in  the  situa- 
tion thani,  too,  wanted  to  play  a  joke  on  the  boys,  and 
my  third  sensation  had  been  one  of  exhilaration  at 
the  thought  of  the  fun  we  might  have  with  the  others 
as  they  came  through.  They  wpuld  plunge  in  at 
such  an  angle  as  to  come  up  first  against  that  portion 
of  the  mountain  which  divided  the  two  pools  and 
which  extended  about  five  feet  below  the  surface  of  the 
water.  Then  they  would  want  to  live,  think  they  had 
great  will  power,  and  would  lunge  forward  in  their 
struggles  to  rise.  The  depth  and  buoyancy  of  the 
water  was  such  that  when  any  one  of  them  started  to 
rise  he  would  come  up  with  a  rapidit}^  that  would 
shoot  him  out  of  the  water  half  his  length.  I  had 
come  up  that  way  and  so  near  th(»  edge  of  the  pool 
that  I  had  put  out  my  hands  and  easily  prevented 
myself  from  sinking  back  under  the  water. 

Mel  and  1  hurriedly  whitened  up  our  faces,  and 
cross-legged  tailor  fashion  sat  down  on  the  edge  of 
the  pool.  AVe  then  set  our  features  into  corpse-like 
rigidity,  and  fixing  our  eyes  with  a  stare  at  the  water, 
awaited  developments.    They  came. 


68  THE  MltORAPHONE. 

The  next  arrival  from  the  vale  of  tears  was  one  of 
the  students,  who,  of  course,  came  up  right  in  the  face 
of  two  ghastly  objects.  With  the  swiftness  and  energy 
of  terror  and  des])eration,  he  dealt  me  a  blow  between 
the  eyes  witli  liis  right  hand  wliich  sent  me  sprawling 
over  backwards,  while  he  buried  the  fingers  of  his  loft 
hand  in  Mel's  hair  and  holding  on  with  the  grip  of  a 
drowning  man,  pulled  him  off  into  the  water,  where  they 
fought  and  clawed  each  other  in  a  most  shameful  wa^- 
for  two  persons  wlio  had  just  crossed  the  thresliold  of 
the  better  world.  Finally  I  got  them  out  of  the  water 
and  separated;  but  not  in  time  to  receive  the  next  ar- 
rival, another  of  the  students,  who,  in  a  dazed  sort  of 
a  way,  grasped  the  situation.  Then  we  whited  up 
again,  and  the  four  of  us  took  positions  as  before, 
only  far  enough  back  to  be  out  of  harm's  way.  An- 
other of  the  students  came  up  promi)tly  on  schedule 
time.  In  his  fright  he  did  not  attempt  to  prevent 
himself  from  sinking  back  under  the  water,  and  of 
course  got  only  one  good  look  at  us  before  he  disap- 
peared. But  that  was  sufficient,  and  in  his  face  we 
read  the  wish  of  his  heart,  that  he  might  not  rise 
again ;  but  in  a  second  up  he  came.  Tlien  the  play  of 
his  countenance  was  the  interesting  feature  of  the  oc- 
casion. We  sat  perfectly  motionless  and  as  relentless 
as  fate.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  doubtful  as  to 
whether  he  was  dead  or  alive,  and  then,  convinced 
that  he  must  be  dead,  ho  was  more  doubtful  as  to 
which  place  he  had  arrived.  He  would  blink  his  eyes 
and  then  rub  them,  like  one  waking  up  from  a  deep 
sleep,  all  the  while  wavering  between  the  desire  to  pull 


THE  LOVERS'  SPRING.  69 

himself  out  and  the  impulse  to  try  to  drown  himself 
again.  It  was  certainly  a  matter  of  the  most  pro- 
found wonder  to  him,  when  his  senses  finally  told  him 
that  he  must  be  alive,  that  he  was  confronted  with 
tlie  corpses  of  his  four  companions  who  had  preceded 
him.  While  he  was  yet  in  his  quandary  another  ar- 
rival from  the  mundane  sphere  announced  himself  in 
the  abrupt  nmnner  that  seemed  to  be  the  correct 
thing  in  nmking  the  transit.  It  was  the  only  remain- 
ing student.  He  repeated  the  manoeuvres  of  the 
other.  The  two  would  be  somewhat  reassured  with  a 
look  at  each  other.  Then  in  doubt  they  would  gaze 
at  us,  then  turn  their  eyes  on  each  other  again  with 
inexpressible  solemnity-  The  great  fun  of  it  was 
that  we  dared  not  laugh,  while  the  desire  to  do  so 
nearly  killed  us. 

But  we  had  to  cut  our  fun  short  and  get  them  out 
in  time  to  receive  Jim.  They  were  treated  to  a  coat 
of  the  wliiting,  and  a  formidable  array  of  six  most 
horrible  looking  ghosts  awaited  the  last  pilgrim. 
And  we  waited  a  long  time.  We  sat  there  with  our 
faces  fixed  and  immovable  until  we  nearly  had  the 
lock-jaw.  The  fact  was  that  Jim  had  had  twenty-four 
minutes  in  which  to  collect  his  scattered  senses  and  to 
allow  his  better  judgment  to  assert  itself.  No  doubt 
he  too  had  approached  the  pool  with  a  half  notion  of 
throwing  himself  in  it;  but  there  would  be  no  need  to 
hurry.  There  were  no  otliers  waiting,  no  pressure 
from  behind,  as  it  were,  and  the  last  two  students 
confessed  that  but  for  what  those  behind  them  would 
think,  they  would  not  have  had  the  courage  to  take 


70  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

the  fatal  leap.    Of  course  the  longer  Jim  tarried  the 
1^88  likely  he  would  be  to  follow  ii8.    In  short,  he  had 
finally  concluded  not  to  make  his  exit  from  the  world 
just  at  present.    This,  no  doubt,  was  highly  credita- 
ble to  his  common  sense,  but  it  did  not  seem  to  be 
doing  the  right  thing  by  the  rest  of  us,  and  we  should 
just  bide  ou;-  time,  and  that  night  scare  him  to  death 
or  into  incurable  madness.    Jim,  we  were  sure,  did 
not  understand  the  true  state  of  affairs.    The  most 
noise  that  had  been  ma.de  was  when  Mel  and  the  stu- 
dent were  struggling  in  the  water,  and  not  a  sound 
had  reached  the  others,  who  afterwards  came  through. 
After  phiiining  many  different  diabolical  schemes  that 
promised   an  uproariously   hjlarious  time,  we  began 
to  fear  that  they  might   terminate   more  seriously 
than  we  wished.    In  the  face  of  all  that  had  occurred 
that  day,  Jim  would  be  in  a  condition  to  be  easily 
scared  into  tits.    We  finall}^  settled  on  the  folh^wing 
plan:     After  Jim  had  retired  for  the  night  we  should 
j)ut  on  our  whiting,  steal  into  camp,  rekindle  the  tire, 
so  as  to  make  a.  strong  light,  and  then  silently  pro- 
ceed to  prepare  our  suppers.     The  tire  would  arouse 
Jim,  who  would  not  sleep  very  sound  that  night.    He 
would  raise  up  and  be  somewhat  frightened  to  see  so 
many  cadavers  in  camp.     We  could  very  safely  grin 
back  at  his  wondering  gaze,  for  the  great  gashes  thus 
revealed  in  the  fearfully  white  faces  made  them  look 
all  the  more  ghastly.    We  even  practiced  on  one  an- 
other, both  to  make  our  grins  more  effective  and  to  re- 
gain our  wont(Hl  mobility  of  features,  which  had  become 
somewhat  impaired  Ijy  the  long  continued  rigidity,  we 


THE  LOVERS'  SPRING.  71 

had  just  imposed  on  them.  As  we  should  be  employed 
in  cooking,  Jim  would  have  time  to  grasp  the  situa- 
tion while  in  doubt  as  to  whether  he  was  awake  or 
asleep.  The  odors  of  boiling  coffee  and  frying  meat 
would  indicate  that  we  were  of  the  human  order  of 
beings  rather  than  of  the  celestial  or  infernal.  It 
would  dawn  upon  him  gradually  and  safely  that  by 
some  means  we  had  escaped  and  were  alive  and 
hungry. 

From  the  grotto  a  crevice  led  out  to  the  canon 
about  twenty-five  yards  below  the  pool.  At  the  en- 
trance it  was  not  more  than  eighteen  inches  wide  and 
was  screened  by  a  dense  growth  of  tall  pine  trees. 
Above  these  trees  the  long  slender  crack  did  not  look 
to  be  over  five  or  six  inches  wide  and  no  one  would 
have  thought  that  back  of  those  trees  was  an  opening 
which  would  admit  a  man.  Mel  had  slipped  around 
this  way  and  played  ghost  to  a  small  but  very  appre- 
ciative audience.  When  we  came  out  into  the  canon 
we  found  Jim  had  returned  to  the  wagons  and  had 
taken  all  the  fishing  tackle  with  him. 

We  followed  up  the  valley  until  we  came  to  an- 
other canon,  into  which  we  penetrated  probably  two 
hundred  yards.  A  pocket  match-safe  had  brought 
some  matches  through  the  water  in  good  condition, 
and  we  soon  had  a  rousing  fire,  by  which  we  dried  our 
clothes  and  made  ourselves  comfortable.  We  should 
have  to  wait  about  four  hours  before  wo  could  have  our 
ghostly  supper  i^antomimo.  AVe  employed  the  time  in 
speculating  about  how  Skein  and  liis  sweetlieart  liad 
outwitted  their  persecutors.    Skein,  no  doubt,  had  in- 


72  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

tended  to  commit  suicide,  and  we  rejoiced  at  the 
thought  of  how  surprised  and  happy  he  must  have 
felt  on  coming  up  in  the  grotto  safe  and  secure  from 
his  enemies.  He  had  then  made  his  escape  known  to 
Jennie,  and  they  had  planned  their  revenge  on  Laird 
and  the  Andrewses.  They  had  been  more  successful, 
perhaps,  in  carrying  it  out  than  t\\Qj  had  intended. 
Jennie  had  known  just  where  she  would  land  when  she 
made  her  bold  plunge,  and  we  thought  her  pretty 
brave,  even  if  she  did  know.  She  had  probably  se- 
creted provisions  where  Mose  could  get  them  and 
carry  them  to  the  grotto,  and  so  provided  for  their 
subsistence  while  they  lingered  a  few  days  to  personate 
their  departed  spirits.  Finally  they  had  made  their 
way  to  some  other  portion  of  the  State,  got  married 
and  were  living  happily,  as  they  deserved.  It  was  just 
delightful  to  think  that  we  alone  shared  this  truly 
lovely  secret  with  Jenni(^  and  Mose.  We  ventured  that 
Jim  would  have  been  willing  to  commit  suicide  to 
have  learned  this  charming  sequel  to  the  ranchman's 
story  a  half-day  sooner.  We  did  not  exactly  approve 
of  our  heroine  using  lily-white,  but  we  forgave  her  in 
consideration  of  the  fun  we  had  had  with  the  box  of 
it  she  had  so  kindly  left  us.  And  then  there  was  more 
fun  yet  to  be  had  with  it. 

About  an  hour  after  dark  we  made  up  our  faces 
and  moved  toward  the  seat  of  operations.  We  had 
not  neglected  to  keep  a  watch  on  Jim's  movements 
to  guard  against  his  driving  off  and  leaving  us  a  long 
walk  on  our  hands,  as  the  Irish  would  say.  As  we 
drew  near  the  clump  of  bushes  that  screened  our  ap- 


THE  LOVERS'  SPRING.  73 

proach,  we  suppressed  our  chucklings,  though  with 
difficulty.  When  we  got  within  the  bushes  we  could 
see  the  camp  and  surroundings.  Our  victim  had  not 
retired  as  we  expected.  A  fire  was  burning  brightly, 
near  which  Jim  sat,  the  very  picture  of  sorrow  and 
woe.  The  tears  were  coursing  freely  down  his  cheeks, 
and  the  heavy  sobs  which  he  in  nowise  tried  to  re- 
strain, completely  unnerved  us.  For  the  first  time  we 
realized  how  grieved  Jim  must  feel  over  our  supposed 
loss.  The  tears  that  started  to  our  own  e3^es  did  not 
promise  much  for  hilariousness.  We  all  slipped  down 
to  the  river  and  washed  the  powder  off  our  faces, 
using  about  as  much  salt  water  as  fresh.  We  were 
still  in  a  dilemma,  however,  as  we  did  not  know  how 
to  introduce  ourselves  in  the  face  of  such  deep  sorrow. 
We  finally  decided  that  we  should  all  step  out  into  the 
light,  laughing,  Mel  at  the  same  time  assuring  Jim 
that  we  were  not  ghosts,  but  bone  and  flesh  and  ap- 
petite, and  that  we  had  been  saved  by  diving  under  a 
rock  and  coming  up  in  a  grotto  on  the  other  side. 

When  we  came  back,  Jim,  in  his  great  loneliness 
and  grief,  was  sobbing  harder  than  ever.  We  carried 
out  the  programme,  only  we  were  all  crying,  and  Mel 
said  with  a  quavering  voice : 

''  Why,  Jim,  we  ain't  hurt." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  FIRST  MESSAGE. 

Jim's  surprise  and  joy  can  better  be  imagined 
than  told.  It  was  a  very  happy  party  that  sat  down 
to  a  late  supper  that  night  in  the  wilds  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  A  great  fire  of  pitch-pine  logs  burned 
cheerfully,  but  the  experiences  of  the  day  and  the 
manner  of  our  home-coming,  so  to  speak,  had  rather 
sobered  us,  and  our  happiness  was  of  a  quiet,  unde- 
monstrative kind.  Sleep  was  out  of  the  question. 
We  talked  over  the  occurrences  of  the  day,  and  our 
conversation  soon  drifted  into  a  controversy  over 
the  problem  of  death  and  the  mystery  of  the  here- 
after. Little  we  knew  that  we  w^ere  on  the  eve  of 
a  discovery  that  would  throw  much  light  on  these 
subjects. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  before  we 
finally  retired,  and  the  middle  of  the  following  fore- 
noon before  we  awoke.  There  had  been  no  occasion  for 
early  rising,  however,  as  the  animals  were  our  only 
care,  and  being  within  reach  of  water  they  could  live 
sumptuously  for  a  week  on  the  rich  grass  in  which 
they  were  tethered. 

By  eleven  o'clock  we  had  breakfasted  and  were  ready 
for  a  ramble  through  the  mountains.  Just  as  we  were 
starting  out  we  met  a  mountaineer  with  a  gun  over 

74 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  75 

his  shoulder  and  a  revolver  and  knife  in  his  belt.  He 
greeted  us  with  a  good-natured  "Hullo,"  and  forth- 
with volunteered  the  information  that  they  had  a  new 
baby  up  at  his  "diggins."  ''My  ole  woman's  mam- 
my," he  continued,  "has  been  visiten  us  nigh  onto 
a  week  and  between  her'n  the  kid  I'm  driv  out  on  a 
hunt  to  find  peace  and  quiet,  and  I'm  bound  to  have 
'em  if  I  have  to  fight  ba'r  for  a  week.  Nothen  like  a 
tus'l  with  a  bar  to  quiet  and  soothe  nerves.  Ben 
Johnson  sed  he  seed  fresh  tracks  over  in  Owl  Gulch 
yesterday,  and  from  their  size  'lowd  'twas  the  biggest 
bar  ever  been  in  these  here  mountains.  Hope  'tis. 
Bigger  the  bar,  bigger  the  soothe.  S'pose  you  fellers 
air  looking  for  sights.  There's  a  cave,  and  a  mighty 
fine  one,  just  bey'nt  them  thar  rocks,"  and  he 
pointed  his  gun  at  some  detached  pieces  of  mountain 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  up  the  river.  On  assuring 
him  that  a  cave  was  just  in  our  linei,  he  advised  us  to 
get  some  pitch-pine  torches,  and  also  a  rope  to  let 
ourselves  down  into  the  "cellar  of  the  cave,"  as  he 
called  it.  After  more  specific  directions  in  regard  to 
the  cavern,  he  went  on  his  way  to  find  the  "big  bar" 
where  his  weary  nerves  would  be  at  rest  and  his 
mother-in-law  cease  from  troubling.  We  could  but 
comment  on  the  singular  beauty  of  the  hunter.  He 
was  probably  forty-five  years  old,  though  he  looked 
not  over  thirty.  Six  feet  tall,  and  with  a  form  perfect- 
ly proportioned,  his  strength  must  certainly  have 
been  marvelous.  A  frank,  open  countenance,  a  clear 
white  and  pink  complexion,  regular  features,  lit  up 
by  large,  intensely  black  eyes,  soft  and  gentle  in  their 


76  .     THE  AURORAPHONE. 

expression,  formed  a  face  as  handsome  and  as  pleas- 
ing as  one  could  wish  to  see.  Add  glossy  black  hair 
and  whiskers,  and  you  have  Sim  Pardee,  the  hunter. 
His  clothing  had  been  brown  duck,  but  was  now 
black  and  shiny,  and  patched  until  but  little  of  the 
original  garments  remained. 

We  were  not  long  in  reaching  the  cave.  We 
crawled  into  it  on  our  hands  and  knees,  and  found  a 
very  ordinary  cavern  consisting  of  one  large  room. 
Near  the  center  of  this  apartment,  however,  was  a 
round,  black  opening  with  a  six-foot  log  thrown 
across  it.  This  was  the  entrance  to  a  perfect  wonder- 
land of  stalactitic  grandeur.  We  first  tied  knots 
about  a  foot  apart  in  our  rope  and  then  fastened  it 
to  the  log  which  spanned  the  pit.  By  means  of  this 
rough  rope  ladder  we  descended  to  the  lower  cavern. 
On  lighting  our  torches,  which  blazed  out  instantly, 
we  found  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  a  perfect  forest  ol 
glittering  and  sparkling  stalactites  and  stalagmites. 
The  coloring  ranged  from  dazzling  white,  through 
delicate  pink  and  yellow,  to  dark  brown.  All  kinds  of 
grotesque  formations  surrounded  us;  and  yet  some 
of  these  formations  were  not  so  grotesque  either.  In 
one  place  was  the  statue  of  a  man  only  a  little  less 
perfect  than  the  most  skillful  sculptor  could  have  pro- 
duced, and  not  far  away  was  the  form  of  an  elephant 
as  natural  as  life,  though  not  nearly  so  large  as  a 
baby  elephant.  I  could  but  feel  that  if  such  blind, 
Ufeless  agents  as  limestone  and  dripping  calcareous 
water  could  thus  shape  such  perfect  forms  it  was  no 
matter  oJ  wonder  that  the  active,  potent  forces  of 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  11 

electricity,  heat  and  sunlij;ht  should  naturally  pro- 
duce plants,  animals  and  human  beings. 

Grand  and  curious  though  it  >vas,  we  tired  of  it  as 
soon  as  we  found  another  dark  opening  similar  to  the 
one  through  which  we  had  just  descended.  Our  desire 
now  was  to  explore  its  depths  in  hopes  that  we  might 
find  still  greater  wonders,  going  from  glory  to  glory, 
though  by  an  altogether  different  route  from  the  one 
generally  supposed  to  be  the  right  one.  Jim  and  two 
of  the  students  returned  to  the  outer  world  and  pro- 
cured a  log  which  we  laid  across  the  pit.  The  last  one 
to  descend  from  the  upper  room  had  untied  the  rope, 
and  by  doubling  it  over  the  log  was  enabled  to  let 
himself  down  safely.  As  we  could  throw  the  rope  up 
over  the  log  again,  it  was  pulled  down  to  assist  in 
our  further  explorations.  Our  rope  was  about  eighty 
feet  long  and  we  concluded  first  to  tie  it  around  Jim, 
who  had  volunteered  for  the  purpose,  and  lower 
him  down  into  the  pit.  When  down  about  ten  feet  he 
gained  a  footing  on  the  floor  of  a  passage  which 
seemed  to  lead  down  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth. 
Telling  us  to  let  out  the  rope  slowly  and  steadily,  he 
proceeded  to  make  his  way  carefully  down  the  incline. 
Jim  soon  called  back  to  make  the  rope  fast  to  the  log 
and  come  down.  He  cautioned  us  to  hold  carefully  to 
the  rope,  and  to  put  out  our  torches,  as  it  was  al- 
ready "lit  up  by  electricity  or  something."  We  de- 
scended in  such  a  hurry  that  only  good  luck  saved  us 
from  accidents.  On  reaching  Jim  we  found  that  we 
were  ten  or  twelve  feet  above  the  floor  of  a  magnifi- 
cent room  lit  up  by  a  phosphorescent  moss-like  sub- 


78  THE  ALRORAPHONE. 

stance  on  its  rock  ceilinp:.  By  some  freak  of  percolation 
the  walls  were  bung  with  the  richest  stalactite  tap- 
estry, whicli  fell  from  ceiling  to  lioor  in  such  natural 
folds  that  we  momentarily  expected  to  see  them 
undulate  in  the  currents  of  air  that  played  freely 
through  the  cavern.  From  the  flora-like  formations 
scattered  about  the  apartment  we  named  it  the  Con- 
servatory of  the  Gods.  Trees,  flowers  and  shrubs 
were  imitated  to  perfection.  A  brook  of  clearest 
water  murmured  musically  through  the  room,  form- 
ing a  deep  pool  just  below  where  we  stood,  or  rather 
clung  to  the  rope,  for  the  incline  at  this  point  was 
almost  perpendicular.  We  enjoyed  the  scene  far  better, 
no  doubt,  by  virtue  of  the  precarious  footing  from 
which  we  viewed  it.  The  fact  that  the  conservatory 
was  inaccessible  also  lent  enchantment  to  the  view. 
We  could  devise  no  means  by  which  we  could  possibly 
hope  to  reach  the  unattainable  in  this  case,  and  as 
each  scheme  proved  futile,  the  beauties  of  the  place 
were  enhanced.  It  seemed  we  should  never  tire  of  it. 
For  over  an  hour  we  gazed  at  the  novel  sights  that 
lay  before  us.  "In  moving  about  to  get  different  views 
of  the  various  objects  we  were  straining  on  the  rope 
and  see-sawing  it  on  the  edge  of  the  rock  where  the 
passage  deflected  from  the  perpendicular.  Suddenly 
the  rope  broke  and  the  unattainable  was  ours  before 
you  could  say  "Jack  Robinson."  Heels  over  head, 
and  repeat,  we  tumbled  into  the  pool,  which,  for- 
tunately, was  deep  enough  to  prevent  us  from  receiv- 
ing any  bad  bruises.  It  was  a  cold  bath,  and  we 
forgot  all  about   the  seriousness  of   the  mishap  in 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  79 

wringing?  out  our  clothes  and  getting  up  a  circulation. 
We  laughed  and    danced    and  yelled,  carrying  our 
boisterousness  to  a  pitch  that  must  have  astonished 
the  gods,  if  any  of  them  were  strolling  through  the 
conservatory  at  that  time.  It  was  an  hour  after  our 
plunge  into  the  "Tourists'  Bath"  before  we  began  to 
realize  the  situation,  and  it  was  just  this:  We^should 
probably  starve  to  death  in  that  dismal  cave.    Pos- 
sibly the  hunter  might  miss  us  in  a  day  or  two  and 
come  to  the  rescue.    Should  the  bear  get  the  best  of 
him  in  their  ''tuss'l,"  even  this  hope  must  perish. 
Succor  from  this  source  was  a  "bear"  possibility  in- 
deed.   Other  tourists  might  visit  the  cave,  but  that 
was  a  chance  that  we  dared  not  depend  on.    It  was 
just  possible  that  we  might  find  another  outlet.    The 
currents  of  air  which  we  felt  from  time  to  time  led  us 
to  believe  that  there  must  be  another  opening  to  the 
cavern.    As  near  as  we  could  determine,' these  air  cur- 
rents came  from  the  direction  from  which  the  stream 
flowed.  Securing  our  rope,  and  the  torches,  which  had 
been  used  as  staffs  in  making  the  first  stage  of  our 
descent,  we  started  on  a  journey  of  exploration  up 
the  stream.    This  latter  was  about  eight  feet  wide  and 
two  feet  deep,  and  we  frequently  took  deep  draughts 
of  the  water,  not  so  much  that  we  were  thirsty,  but 
that  its  coolness,  purity  and  sweetness  made  it  a  most 
delicious    beverage.     For    two    miles,    perhaps,    we 
journeyed  along  through  a  great  variety  of   weird 
and  grotesque  forms  still  lit  up  by  the  peculiar  light 
from  overhead.     Then  the  stream  branched  off  from 
the   main   cavern,   coming  now  through   a  narrow 


so  THE  Al'IKfnM'lULM:. 

ravine,  where  we  should  have  to  wade  in  the  water  to 
lon<z:er  guide  our  course  by  it.  There  were  uuniis- 
takable  indications,  however,  that  th(^  ori<iinal  bed  of 
the  stream  was  up  the  main  hall,  and  we  felt  confident 
that  by  keeping  up  the  old  bed  we  should  again  come 
to  the  brook,  where,  in  seeking  a  more  direct  route 
through  the  cavern,  it  had  eaten  its  way  through  a 
softer  formation.  Again  taking  long  draughts  of  the 
delicious  water,  we  resumed  our  way  up  the  great 
hall. 

At  two  different  places,  probably  two  miles  apart, 
the  stream  had  widened  to  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  over 
shelving  rocks,  and  must  have  formed  beautiful  cas- 
cades. After  passing  the  second  of  these  we  paused 
to  rest.  Presently  we  caught  the  faint  sound  of  a 
musical  note.  We  held  our  breaths  and  listened; 
again  and  again  we  heard  it — a  far-away,  deep,  rich 
tone.  We  hurriedly  pressed  forward,  the  noise  we 
made  drowning  out  all  other  sounds.  For  ten  min- 
utes we  trudged  along  and  then  stopped  again  to 
listen.  We  heard  the  same  tones  or  notes,  but  there 
had  been  added  others  of  still  clearer  and  sweeter 
timbre.  We  pursued  our  way  now  with  the  least  noise 
possible,  fearful  that  we  should  lose  one  tone  of  the 
soft  cadences  which  fell  upon  our  eager  ears.  As  we 
advanced,  the  tones  multiplied,  and  the  harmony 
grew  in  volume  and  sweetness,  now  low  and  plaintive, 
seeming  to  sweep  th'j  soul  with  every  phase  of  human 
doubt  and  mystery  and  sorrow ;  then  swelling  out  to 
full,  joyous  strains  that  spoke  of  rest  and  peace  and 
triumph.    We  were  in  doubt  as  to  whether  we  should 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  81 

proceed  any  farther.  Surely  we  were  intruding*  on 
some  celestial  choir.  No  human  mind  could  have 
composed,  or  human  hands  executed,  that  sublime 
commingling  of  ecstatic  sounds.  It  was  like  an 
{Polian  harp,  of  which  the  strings  were  chimc^s  of 
bells,  organ  chords  and  vocal  melodies  vibrating  to 
the  touch  of  angels'  wings.  Believing,  however,  that 
natural  causes  must  be  at  the  bottom  of  this  splendid 
nmsic,  we  pressed  forward,  trembling  with  awe  and 
delight.  Finally  we  came  upon  the  wonderful  or- 
chestra. Below  us  was  a  vast  chamber,  of  which  the 
hall  in  which  we  stood  formed  a  sort  of  gallery. 
Myriads  of  stalactites  hung  from  the  roof,  and  as 
many  stalagmites  reared  themselves  from  the  slant- 
ing, uneven  floor  which  formed  the  bed  of  a  rushing 
cascade.  Just  beyond  us  the  water  had  broken 
through  the  soft  limestone  bank  and  poured,  in  a 
broad  thin  sheet,  into  the  room  below,  forming  a 
beautiful  waterfall.  In  its  descent  it  touched  in- 
numerable stalactites,  and  reaching  the  floor  it 
dashed  in  and  out  among  a  multitude  of  stalagmites. 
Any  of  these  — stalactites  or  stalagmites— tapped 
with  a  lead  pencil  would  give  out  a  rich  musical  note; 
played  upon  by  the  water  nymphs,  the  grand  har- 
mony which  reverberated  throughout  the  cavern  was 
the  result.  The  delicate  resonant  pendants  from  the 
roof  vibrated  in  sympathy  with  the  singing  stalag- 
mites below,  and  so  played  an  undertone  accom- 
paniment to  the  leading  pieces.  Every  swirl,  swash, 
gurgle,  splash,  murmur  and  ripple  of  the  waters  found 
a  melodious  expression  in  the  vibrations  of  some  of 


S2  THE  MliORAPHONE. 

those  grlistening  crystalline  tubes.  Not  a  sound  of 
falling  water  or  rushing  torrent  was  to  be  heard.  The 
roaring  of  a  great  cataract  was  all  transformed  into 
sweetest  melody.  As  we  stood  listening,  I  was  vividly 
reminded  of  some  words  of  Cardhial  Newman  on 
music.  "Is  it  possible,"  he  says,  "that  that  inex- 
haustible evolution  and  disposition  of  notes,  so  rich 
yet  so  simple,  so  intricate  yet  so  regulated,  so  various 
yet  so  majestic,  should  be  a  mere  sound  which  is  gone 
and  iJerishes?  Can  it  be  that  those  mysterious 
stirrings  of  heart,  and  keen  emotions,  and  strange 
yearnings  after  we  know  not  what,  and  awful  impres- 
sions from  we  know  not  whence,  should  be  wrought  in 
us  by  what  is  unsubstantial,  and  comes  and  goes, 
and  begins  and  ends  in  itself?  It  is  not  so ;  it  cannot 
be.  No ;  they  have  escaped  from  some  higher  sphere ; 
they  are  the  outpourings  of  eternal  harmony  in  the 
medium  of  created  sound ;  they  are  echoes  from  our 
Home;  they  are  the  voice  of  angels,  or  the  Magnificat 
of  saints,  or  the  living  laws  of  Divine  Governance,  or 
the  Divine  Attributes;  something  are  they  besides 
themselves,  which  we  cannot  compass,  which  we  can- 
not utter — though  mortal  man,  and  he  perhaps  not 
otherwise  distinguished  above  his  fellows,  has  the  gift 
of  eliciting  them." 

The  thrilling  strains,  which  held  us  spell-bound, 
were  indeed  a  diAdne  symphony  — a  fitting  prelude  to 
the  revelations  of  the  next  twenty-four  hours. 

Though  our  fatigue  was  forgotten  under  the  charm 
of  the  music,  we  rested  here  for  two  hours.  We  had 
been  traveling  for  ten  hours,  most  of  the  time  on 


THb^  FIRST  MESSAGE.  88 

smooth  ground,  and  with  good  light  all  the  time.  It 
was  rather  curious  thnt  the  light  seemed  to  glow 
softer  and  yet  bi-ighter  under  the  spell  of  the  music, 
an  effect,  no  doubt,  of  the  syni])athy  of  siglit  with 
hearing,  but  there  had  been  no  time  wlien  we  could 
not  see  distinctly.  The  grade  up  which  we  h;jd  come 
we  judged  was  about  two  liundred  feet  to  the  mile, 
and  traveling  at  the  rate  of  three  miles  an  hour  we 
calculated  that  we  had  reached  an  altitude  of  six 
thousand  feet  above  the  point  from  which  we  started, 
and  hence  must  be  near  the  summit  of  some  lofty 
mountain. 

After  our  rest  we  marched  on  to  the  inspiring 
strains  of  the  water  orchestra,  feeling  as  greatly  re- 
freshed as  if  we  had  enjoyed  a  good  sleep  and  par- 
taken of  food.  We  had  not  proceeded  far  when  we 
noticed  that  the  air  currents  were  cooler  and  stronger, 
blowing  steadily  in  our  faces.  The  peculiar  light  also 
began  to  fade  out  in  the  stronger  light  of  day.  Fol- 
lowing the  stream,  which  had  once  more  become  our 
guide,  around  a  slight  curve,  we  saw,  not  far  ahead, 
the  opening  for  which  we  had  been  looking,  and 
through  which  was  pouring  the  first  rays  of  the 
morning  sun.  The  stream  also  came  through  the 
opening,  there  being  a  space  above  the  water  about 
three  feet  high  and  six  feet  wide.  Through  this  open- 
ing we  looked  out  upon  a  smah  lake,  fed,  undoubtedly, 
from  below,  as  it  lay  almost  on  the  summit  of  a  lofty 
mountain.  It  was  about  fifty  yards  across  the  lake 
to  a  point  where  the  sloping  bank  would  allow  us  to 
climb  out.    This  point  was  directly  ahead  of  us,  and 


84  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

as  the  sunbeams  came  from  a  point  considerably  to 
the  right,  we  must  have  been  looking  due  north.  The 
water,  contracted  to  a  much  narrower  bed,  flowed 
from  the  lake  in  a  strong cui-rent  about  four  feet  deep. 
We  should  be  compelled  to  force  our  way  against  this 
for  only  about  six  feet,  and  making  our  clothes  up 
into  compact  bundles,  which  we  tied  on  our  heads,  we 
made  our  way  through  the  channel,  and  struck  out 
boldly  for  the  opposite  shore.  The  water  seemed  to 
be  only  a  degree  or  two  above  the  freezing  point,  and 
our  swim  was  anything  but  sport.  Our  clothes,  how- 
ever, were  dry,  and  we  were  again  comfortable  by  the 
time  we  were  dressed,  Climbing  the  little  slope,  we 
found  ourselves  on  a  perfectly  level  table-land,  con- 
taining, probably,  two  acres,  and  forming  the  apex  of 
the  mountain.  The  first  object  that  attracted  our 
attention  was  an  unusually  large  piano  box,  as  we 
took  it  to  be,  situated  in  the  center  of  the  plateau. 
On  closer  examination  it  proved  to  be  fastened  to  a 
heavy  floor  or  platform,  with  large  iron  hinges  on 
one  side  and  a  common  hasp  and  staple  on  the  oppo- 
site side.  It  was  not  locked,  and  though  a  little 
afraid  of  some  mammoth  Jack-in-the-box  trick,  we 
raised  the  box,  disclosing  an  instrument  of  delicate 
and  complicated  parts.  It  showed  fine  workmanship, 
and  seemed  to  combine  telegraphic  and  telephonic 
apparatus.  One  of  the  students,  who  was  an  expert 
telegrapher,  expressed  the  opinion  that  it  had  been 
built  with  a  view  to  transmitting  messages  on  some 
principle  of  ethereal  vibrations.  Mel  regarded  it  as  an 
instrument  to  be  used  in  conveying  to  a  deaf  audience 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE,  85 

the  words  of  the  lecturer  addressing  it.  Jim  thought 
"that  if  it  were  a  contrivance  for  catching  and  frying 
fish  we  couldn't  get  it  to  working  any  too  soon  to  suit 
him."  This  reminded  us  that  we  were  hungry.  We 
could  still  catch  a  few  notes  of  the  orchestra,  but  the 
nervous  energy  imparted  by  its  inspiriting  tones  had 
died  out,  leaving  us  tired,  sleepy  and  hungry. 

We  now  took  a  view  of  our  surroundings.     ^.8  far 
north  as  we  could  see  the  mountains  continued,  veerino- 
a  little  to  the  west,  while  here  and  there  isolated  peaks 
or  spurs,  covered  with  tall  pine  trees,  jutted  out  from 
the  principal  chain  into  the  open  country  to  the  east 
of  us.    To  the  west  and  south  it  was  all  mountains. 
On  the  west  side  of  the  plateau  which  we  occupied,  we 
found  a  trail  leading  down  the  mountain.    Following 
this  trail  for  a  mile  we  came  to  a  beautiful  valley,  and 
what  was  more  to  the  purpose,  a  large,  comfortable 
looking  log  house.    Three  white  men  and  an  old  negro 
were  busy  loading  a  wagon  with  the  various  parts  of 
an  instrument  similar  to  the  one  we  had  just  seen  on 
the  mountain.  The  men  referred  us  to  their  employer, 
who  was  in  the  house,  assuring  us  that  he  would  see 
that  our  wants  were  provided  for.    We  proceeded  to 
the  house  and  knocked  at  the  door,  which  was  opened 
by  an  old   gentleman    with  long,  silvery   hair  and 
beard.    We  told  our  story  briefly,  and  asked  for  food 
and  shelter  until  the  following  day,  when  we  should 
be  sufficiently  refreshed  to  make  the  journey  back  to 
camp.    We  were  cordially  welcomed,  and  the  colored 
man,  who  answered  to  the  call  "Pete,"  was  soon  pre- 
paring our  breakfast  with  the  skill  and  celerity  of 


86  THE  AURORAPTIONE. 

an  experienced  cook.  Very  agreeably  to  us  we  were 
shortly  invited  to  ''  set  up  an'  help  yo'selves.'"  While 
\^e  were  eating  the  old  gentleman  told  us  his  story. 

His  name  was  Gaston  Lesage,  and  he  was  a  French- 
man by  birth  and  education.  At  the  age  oi  thirty  he 
came  to  this  country  and  became,  as  he  frankly  con- 
fessed, a  monomaniac  on  the  subjects  of  electricity 
and  telegraphy,  his  pet  hobby  being  to  invent  and 
perfect  an  instrument  for  the  transmission  of  sound- 
signs  by  natural  electrical  currents.  He  had  had  an 
ample  fortune,  and  had  spared  neither  pains  nor  ex- 
pense in  the  endeavor  to  put  his  theories  into  practice. 
The  only  encouragement  received  had  been  in  the 
fourth  year  of  his  experiments,  when  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  establishing  communications  between  the 
two  instruments  which  his  ingenuity  had  devised,  but 
at  ver;y  short  range  and  only  under  certain  favorable 
conditions  of  the  atmosphere.  He  had  carried  on  his 
researches  and  experiments  on  land  and  at  sea,  in  the 
burning  desert  and  on  lonely  islands,  and  was  now 
closing  a  series  of  experiments  covering  a  period  of 
three  years  on  these  lofty  mountain  peaks.  He  was 
still  unsuccessful,  and  was  that  day  packing  up  one  of 
his  instruments  preparatory  to  abandoning  the  enter- 
prise altogether.  The  next  day  he  intended  to  pack 
up  the  remaining  instrument,  which  would  have  to  be 
taken  to  pieces  and  carried  down  to  the  house  on 
burros.  He  and  his  men  had  been  six  months  in  con- 
structing the  rough  road  that  had  enabled  them  to 
reach  the  valley  they  now  occupied.  It  would  take  us 
about  two  days  to  make  the  trip  down  the  mountain 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  87 

over  this  road.  Our  late  breakfast  dispatched,  we  be- 
took ourselves  to  sleep,  having-  first  exacted  a  prom- 
ise from  Mr.  Lesage  to  call  us  for  the  evening  meal. 

It  was  near  sundown  when  we  were  aroused  by 
heavy  thunder,  and  got  up  to  find  it  raining,  or  mist- 
ing, as  we  appeared  to  be  in  the  cloud  itself.  With 
some  alarm  we  remembered  now  that  we  had  not 
closed  the  case  of  the  instrument,  and  expressed  the 
fear  to  Mr.  Lesage  that  it  would  be  damaged  by  the 
rain.  He  assured  us  that  it  would  sustain  no  injury 
from  a  fog  like  the  one  driving  along  the  mountains, 
even  if  it  reached  the  summit,  which  he  doubted.  Af- 
ter supper  our  host  volunteered  to  take  us  to  the 
summit  and  explain  the  mechanism  of  the  instru- 
ments from  the  one  yet  in  working  order.  We  gladly 
accepted  the  offer,  though  it  was  now  a  little  after 
dark.  Having  first  lit  a  lantern  of  extraordinary 
power,  the  old  gentleman  led  the  way  up  the  steep 
trail.  The  lantern,  however,  was  carried  by  Pete,  the 
sable  cook,  who  brought  up  the  rear.  At  first  the 
light  threw  our  gigantic  shadows  on  the  surrounding 
mist,  then  we  passed  beyond  the  cloud  to  find  the 
stars  shining  brightly  overliead.  Tho  temperature 
had  fallen  several  degiees,  and  a  light  wind  was  blow- 
ing from  the  south.  Arriving  at  the  summit,  we  found 
a  magnificent  view  awaiting  us.  The  open  land  to 
the  north,  east  and  south,  as  far  as  we  could  see,  was 
filled  with  a  mass  of  great  billowy  clouds  illuminated 
with  a  deep  fiush  by  the  incessant  play  of  sheet  light- 
ning. It  was  as  if  we  stood  on  the  shore  of  a  great, 
rosy  sea  stretching  far  away  to  wonderland.    As  wu 


88  THE  AURORAPUONE. 

looked  we  perceived  far  to  tlie  north  the  first  tremu- 
lous streamers  of  the  aurora  borealis.  At  the  sight 
of  this,  Mr.  Lesage  became  greatly  excited,  and  his 
laments  and  self-blaming  for  having  taken  to  pieces 
his  other  instrument,  which  would  require  days  to 
put  together  again,  were  painful  to  hear.  <'The  ap- 
pearance of  the  northern  lights,"  he  said,  '<at  this 
time  of  the  year,  indicates  a  very  unusual  electrical 
condition  of  the  solar  system."  With  that  certainty 
born  of  the  inability  of  verification,  he  felt  sure  that 
had  his  other  instrument  been  in  position, he  would  at 
last  have  discovered  the  true  nature  of  the  electrical 
currents. 

Higher  and  higher  streamed  the  crimson  banners 
of  the  north,  irradiating  the  heavens  with  glory  and 
effulgence.  The  billowy  mist  threw  back  the  roseate 
splendor,  and  in  the  growing  light  the  isolated  peaks 
were  seen  here  and  there  lifting  their  crowns  of  tall 
trees  above  the  glowing  weaves  like  great  masts  and 
spars  of  ocean  craft— great  vessels,  seeming  in  the 
universal  glow  to  be  carved  from  radiant  coral.  The 
rising  wind,  coming  directly  from  tlie  cavern,  bore  to 
our  ears  the  full,  joyous  peals  of  the  orchestra.  The 
clouds  began  to  move  away  to  the  north,  and,  as  they 
swept  by  the  i)eaks,  the  latter  sailed  toward  us  — 
B^jlendid  ships  coming  to  bear  us  over  that  mystic  sea 
to  the  regions  of  glorious  liglit  where  the  mysteries  cf 
existence  should  be  revealed,  where  all  doubts  should 
be  swept  away  and  the  ''strange  yearnings"  after  the 

Infinite  be  satisfied. 

'•Tick,  tick-tick,  tickety-tick,"  suddenly  chattered 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  89 

the  instrument.  <'Mon  Dieu!"  exclaimed  the  old  gen- 
tleman, reverting  to  the  mother  tongue  in  his  excite- 
ment. 

''Click-click,  click,  clickety-clickety  click,"  again 
from  the  instrument.  Our  host's  face  grew  ghastly  in 
the  red  light.  He  threw  his  hands  over  his  heart, 
trembling  and  gasping  for  breath.  The  negro  was 
supporting  his  employer,  though  his  own  teeth  were 
chattering  like  castanets.  <'Fo'  de  Lawd's  sake, 
Marse  Gaston."  he  yelled  in  his  fright,  ''smash  de 
deb'lish  ting  an'  frow  um  in  de  lake." 

After  the  second  "call"  there  had  come  a  perfect 
torrent  of  clicks  and  ticks,  continued  for  a  minute  or 
so  with  such  rapidity  and  force  that  it  seemed  the  in- 
strument must  be  lifted  oif  its  base.  Then,  as  if  the 
mysterious  operator  was  satisfied  with  this  exhibition 
of  his  dexterity,  theclickings  assumed  a,  slower  pace.  By 
this  time  Mr.  Lesage  had  recovered  himself  and  was 
giving  his  whole  attention  to  the  instrument.  The 
Auroraphone  we  there  and  then  named  it.  Pete's 
teeth  were  less  noisy,  but  his  eyes  were  still  protrud- 
ing, as  he  stood  looking  askance  at"de  deb'lish  ting," 
his  body  leaning  slightly  toward  the  home  trail,  all 
ready  to  cut  and  run  at  the  first  sign  of  danger. 

The  telegrapher  of  our  party  was  now  with  Mr.  Les- 
age, listeningto  the  clickings,  which  were  unintelligible 
to  both.  The  breeze  freshened,  bringing  in  clearer  tones 
the  thrilling  cadences  of  the  orchestra .  The  skies  fla  med 
out  brighter  and  brighter,  the  clouds  rolled  along 
faster  and  faster,  and  the  stately  ships  sailed  toward 
port  with  increasing  speed.    The  auroraphone  clicked 


90  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

away  first  after  one  regular  system,  and  th('n  after 
another,  pausing  a  minute  or  so  between  them.  Dur- 
ing one  of  these  intervals  the  student,  on  a  sudden 
impulse,  put  his  hand  to  the  key  and  dashed  off  in  the 
Morse  alphabet,  "  AVho  are  you,  what  are  you,  and 
where  are  you?"  The  auroraphone  clicked  away  as 
before  for  several  minutes,  then  ceased  altogether.  At 
the  end  of  ten  minutes  there  came  in  the  Morse  alpha- 
bet these  answers  to  the  questions  asked:  "I  am 
Rulph  Bozar.  1  am  a  human  being  much  like  your- 
selves, and  I  am  an  inhabitant  of  the  ringed  planet, 
sixth  in  order  from  the  sun," — Saturn,  as  Mr.  Lesage, 
who  adhered  to  the  former  pronunciation,  informed 
us.  "By  the  natural  electrical  currents,"  continued 
the  auroraphone,  "I  am  enabled  to  send  and  receive 
messages  to  and  from  various  planets,  and  with  a 
velocity  far  exceeding  the  rate  at  which  light  travels. 
By  means  of  an  instrument  which  we  call  the  opti- 
graph,  attached  to  our  piano-electrophone,  I  am  also 
enabled  to  see  you  and  your  party,  nine  of  you.  Tell 
our  colored  brother,  who,  I  see,  is  momentarily  ex- 
pecting an  explosion,  that  there  is  no  cause  for  alarm. 
Please  tell  me  the  names  by  which  you  designate  both 
your  own  and  our  planet,  so  that  in  speaking  of  them 
I  may  use  the  terms  with  which  you  are  familiar." 

The  information  was  forwarded,  and  we  must  wait 
ten  minutes  for  a  response.  In  the  meantime  Mr. 
Lesage  endeavored  to  allay  Pete's  fears.  He  assured 
him  that  there  was  no  danger  and  told  him  that  by  a 
wonderful  chance  we  had  "established  communication 
with  Saturn—"  But  here  Pete's  teeth  began  to  chatter 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  91 

again  and  he  broke  out:  "I  done  tole  yo'  so,  I  did. 
1  know'd  it  wa'  ole  Satan,  and  fo'  de  lub  ob  de  Lawd, 
Marse  Gaston,  quit  foolin'  wid  de  ole  debil  an'  come 
home  wid  Pete,"  and  he  led  the  way  down  the  moun- 
tain with  none  to  follow,  at  a  pace  that  soon  took 
him  out  of  sight  and  hearing. 

Again  the  auroraphone  is  clicking: 
"  My  Brethren  of  the  Eartli,  Greeting: 
"You  will  first  want  to  know  how  it  is  that  I  under- 
stand your  language  and  system  of  telegraphy.  With 
us  both  are  obsolete,  and  were  in  use  just  five  hundred 
years  ago,  which,  as  you  measure  time,  would  be 
fifteen  thousand  years  ago.  I  hold  a  position  in 
what  we  term  an  electro-planetary  station,  and  to  fill 
the  position  I  must  be  somewhat  acquainted  with  the 
rudiments  of  many  old  languages  and  systems  of 
telegraphy,  and  among  those  I  have  studied  are  your 
own.  Please  bear  in  mind  that  I  have  to  divide  my 
attention  among  a  great  many  of  these  old  lang- 
uages ;  that  the  one  1  am  now  using  has  long  been  out  of 
date,  and  hence  you  must  not  be  surprised  that  I  am 
far  less  proficient  in  it  than  your  own  men  of  letters. 
The  age  in  which  your  language  was  used  by  our  nation 
is  known  as  the  Solarian  age.  We  called  the  central 
orbof  the  solar  system  the  Sun,  which  was  regarded  as 
the  creator  of  the  universe— as  God.  The  Solarian 
era  dates  from  the  advent  of  a  wonderful  and  good 
man  who  established  a  great  religion.  He  claimed 
that  became  from  the  Sun,  and  was  the  son  of  God— 
the  Sun ;  that  he  was  one  with  the  Sun— was  God.  Al- 
though this  religion  has  long  been  discarded  as  con- 


92  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

tainiiig  many  superstitions,  now  no  longer  necessary, 
yet  all  reA'erence  is  accorded  it  by  our  people,  who  are 
at  one  in  attributing  to  it  our  present  culture  and 
progress.  We  have  a  new  era  now,  dating  from  the 
advent  of  a  new  religion,  which  '  Unitarianism '  comes 
nearest  defining  in  your  language— meaning  not  so 
much  the  unity  of  God,  or  of  mankind,  as  the  one- 
hood  of  the  universe.  As  before  said,  we  are  in  com- 
munication with  several  other  planets,  which  we  have 
reached  by  means  of  our  electro-planetary  stations, 
where  operators  are  employed  to  keep  a  constant 
look-out  for  a  favorable  chance  to  introduce  ourselves 
to  neighboring  worlds.  At  certain  stages  of  progress, 
the  people  of  the  various  planets  carry  their  inventive- 
ness to  the  production  of  instruments  like  your  own, 
and  sooner  or  later  we  reach  them.  Owing  to  the  un- 
usual electrical  disturbance  of  the  past  hour,  I  have 
had  a  view  of  the  earth's  entire  surface,  and  hence 
was  enabled  to  adjust  the  piano-electrophone  so  as  to 
be  in  direct  communication  with  your  instrument. 
Now  that  we  know  your  exact  location  we  shall  have 
no  further  trouble  in  communicating  with  each  other, 
and  by  adding  a  power  or  two  of  artificial  electricity 
I  can  see  you  by  the  same  currents  that  I  use  in 
sending  messages.  There  will  be  times  when,  for  a 
day,  or  even  for  a  week,  conditions  will  be  unfavor- 
able for  an  exchange  of  messages.  Our  electrometer, 
however,  warns  us  of  all  electrical  changes,  so  that  we 
can  tell  for  weeks  ahead  when  conditions  will  be  favor- 
able and  unfavorable.  For  thirty-six  hours  yet,  as 
you  measure  time,  we  may  communicate,  and  then 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE,  93 

for  three  days  unfavorable  conditions  will  prevail. 
Our  inventors  are  at  work  on  some  new  processes  for 
generating  electricity,  which  promise  much.  With 
them  we  shall  be  independent  of  natural  electrical 
currents. 

"In  giving  j'ou  a  history  of  our  religious,  social 
and  political  institutions,  1  shall  begin  with  the 
former,  and,  indeed,  1  shall  devote  myself  to  that 
juainly,  and  treat  of  the  others  incidentally.  Our 
present  religion  or  philosophy  is  based  on  the  results 
of  certological  calculations.  Certology  is  with  us  a 
science  which  is  to  logic  as  your  geometry  is  to  guess- 
work. Our  knowledge  of  the  universe,  obtained  through 
certology,  is  such  that  among  the  eighteen  hundred 
millions  of  our  people  there  is  perfect  unanimity  as  to 
its  origin,  purpose  and  destiny.  For  want  of  terms 
I  cannofc  give  you  an  insight  into  the  principles  and 
methods  of  this  modern  science,  but  the  earlier  history 
of  our  progress  can  be  set  forth  in  terms  with  which 
you  are  familiar. 

"  The  religion  of  the  son  of  the  Sun  taught  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  future  rewards  for  right-doing 
and  future  punishment  for  wrong-doing.  Creeto  was 
the  prophet's  name  who  revealed  this  religion,  and  we 
are  still  known  as  Creetans  and  so  I  shall  call  our  peo- 
ple when  speaking  of  them.  Another  great  nation  to 
the  west  of  us  also  had  their  inspired  prophet,  or 
teacher,  who  taught  the  existence  of  an  invisible 
spiritual  God,  who  would  eventually  absorb  all  mor- 
tal souls  after  they  had  served  as  the  souls  of  other 
beings  and  persons —  *  transmigration  of  souls,' they 


94  THE  AVRORArUONE. 

call  it.  There  were  also  skeptics,  who  denied  and  ridi- 
culed both  religions,  clainiini;-  tliat  the  universe  was 
self-existent,  and  that  neither  the  Sun  nor  the  spirit- 
ual God  was  its  creator.  They  moreover  contended 
that  death  was  tlie  extinction  of  the  conscious  soul. 
Many  other  religions  and  philosophies  were  extant, 
but  teaching  only  different  phases  of  these  three. 

"In  the  course  of  time  a  great  mathematician.  La- 
passa,  brought  out  tlie  Solar  theory, and  I  shall  quote 
from  a  later  writer  a  brief  presentation  of  its  general 
features. 

<"The  first  cosmological  speculation,'  says  Jo- 
hann  Feske,  *  which  has  been  raised  quite  above  the 
plane  of  guess-work  by  making  no  other  assumption 
than  that  of  the  uniformity  of  nature,  is  the  well- 
known  Solar  theory.  Every  astronomer  knows  that 
Sexbellus,  like  all  other  cosmical  bodies  which  are 
flattened  at  the  poles,  was  formerly  a  mass  of  fluid, 
and  consequently  filled  a  much  larger  space  than  at 
present.  It  is  further  agreed  on  all  hands  that  the 
Sun  is  a  contracting  body,  since  there  is  no  other  pos- 
sible way  of  accounting  for  the  enormous  quantity  of 
heat  which  he  generates.  The  so-called  primeval  neb- 
ula follows  as  a  necessary  inference  from  these  facts. 
There  was  once  a  time  when  Sexbellus  was  distended 
on  all  sides  away  out  to  the  Trios*  and  beyond  it,  so 
that  the  matter  now  contained  in  the  Trios  was  then 
a  part  of  our  equatorial  zone.  And  at  a  still  remoter 
date  in  the  past  the  mass  of  the  Sun  was  diffused  in 


The  third,  or  outermoat,  ring  of  Saturn. 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  95 

every  direction  beyond  the  orbit  of  Otto,*  and  no 
planet  had  an  individual  existence^  for  all  were  indis- 
tinguishable parts  of  the  solar  mass.  When  the  great 
mass  of  the  Sun,  increased  by  the  relatively  small 
mass  of  all  the  planets  put  together,  was  spread  out 
in  this  way,  it  was  a  rare  vapor  or  gas.  At  the 
period  where  the  question  is  taken  up  in  Lapassa's 
treatment  of  the  Solar  theory,  the  shape  of  this  mass 
is  regarded  as  spheroidal;  but  at  an  earlier  period  its 
shape  may  well  have  been  as  irregular  as  that  of  any 
of  the  nebulae  which  we  now  see  in  distant  parts  of 
the  heavens,  for,  whatever  its  primitive  shape,  the 
equalization  of  its  rotation  would  in  time  make  it 
spheroidal. 

'"  That  the  quantity  of  rotation  was  the  same  then 
as  now  is  unquestionable;  for  no  S3^stem,  great  or 
small,  can  acquire  or  lose  rotation  by  any  action 
going  on  within  itself,  any  more  than  a  man  could 
pick  himself  up  by  the  waist  band  and  lift  himself 
over  a  wall.  So  that  the  primitive  rotating  spheroidal 
solar  nebula  is  not  a  matter  of  assumption,  but  is 
just  what  must  once  have  existed,  provided  there  has 
been  no  breach  of  continuity  in  nature's  operations. 
Now  proceeding  to  reason  back  from  the  past  to  the 
present,  it  has  been  shown  that  the  abandonment  of 
successive  equatorial  belts  by  the  contracting  solar 
mass  must  have  ensued  in  accordance  with  known 
mechanical  laws;  and  in  similar  wise,  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  each  belt  must  have  parted  into  frag- 

*  Neptune. 


96  TITE  MliORAPJinXE. 

meiits  and  tlie  frajucments  cliasiii^  each  other  around 
the  same  orbit  must  have  at  last  coalesced  into  a 
splieroidal  planet.  Not  only  this,  but  it  has  also 
been  whown  that  ns  the  result  of  such  a  process  the 
relative  sizes  of  the  planets  would  be  likely  to  take 
the  order  which  they  now  follow;  tliat  the  ring  im- 
mediately succeeding  that  of  Golath*  wouhl  be  likely 
to  abort  and  pioduce  a  great  number  of  tiny  planets 
instead  of  one  good-sized  one;  that  the  outer  planets 
would  be  likely  to  have  many  moons,  and  that  Sex- 
bcllus,t  besides  having  the  greatest  number  of  moons, 
would  be  likely  to  retain  some  of  his  inner  rings  un- 
broken; that  Opak$  would  be  likely  to  have  a  long 
day  and  Golath  a  short  one;  that  the  extreme  outer 
planets  would  be  not  unlikel}^  to  rotate  in  a  retro- 
grade direction;  and  so  on  through  along  Hst  of  in- 
teresting and  striking  details.  Not  only,  therefore, 
are  we  driven  to  the  inference  that  our  solar  system 
was  once  a  vaporous  nebula,  but  we  find  that  the 
mere  contraction  of  such  a  nebula,  under  the  influence 
of  the  enormous  mutual  gravitation  of  its  particles, 
carries  with  it  the  explanation  of  both  the  more  gen- 
eral and  the  more  particular  feutures  of  the  present 
system,  so  that  we  may  fairly  regard  this  stupendous 
process  as  veritable  matter  of  history., 


*  Jupiter. 

t  Saturn. 

t  The  earth.  Mr.  Boznr  (juoted  the  exact  language  of 
the  hook,  iie;i,l<'ctin^-  to  use  the  names  by  which  we  desig- 
nated flic  ]»hHiets,  but  afterwards  gave  us  their  equivalents, 
as  just  shown. 


TH?:  FIRST  MESSAGE.  97 

"In  confirmation  of  this  theory — that,  every  thing 
is  from  the  Sun,  which  originally  existed  in  a  nebu- 
lous mass,  it  was  discovered  that  there  were  other 
nebulous  masses  throughout  the  universe,  in  a  gas- 
eous state,  and  undergoing  concentration.  I  quote 
from  finother  writer  on  this  subject.  Sir  Wilht^lm 
Drooper,  in  speaking  of  the  difiiculty  of  determining 
the  condition  of  remote  nebula  by  means  of  the  tele- 
scope, says :  '  Fortunately,  however,  other  means  for 
the  settlement  of  this  question  are  available.  A  few 
years  ago,  it  was  discovered  that  the  spectrum  of  an 
ignited  solid  in  continuous— that  is,  has  neither  dark 
nor  bright  lines.  Others  had  previously  made  known 
that  the  spectrum  of  ignited  gases  is  discontinuous. 
Here,  then,  is  the  means  of  determining  whether  the 
light  emitted  by  a  given  nebula  comes  from  an  incan- 
descent gas  or  from  a  congeries  of  solids,  stars  or 
suns.  If  its  spectrum  be  discontinuous,  it  is  a  true 
nebula  or  gas;  if  continuous,  a  congeries  of  stars. 

"'Subsequent  observations  have  shown  that,  of 
sixty  nebulae  examined,  nineteen  give  discontinuous 
or  gaseous  spectra ;  the  remainder,  continuous  ones. 

" '  It  may,  therefore,  be  admitted  tliat  physical  evi- 
dence has  at  length  been  obtained  demonstrating  the 
existence  of  vast  masses  of  matter  in  a  gaseous  con- 
dition and  at  a  temperature  of  incandescence.  The 
hypothesis  of  Lapassa  has  thus  a  firm  basis.  In  such 
a  nebular  mass,  cooling  by  radiation  is  a  necessary 
incident,  and  condensation  and  rotation  the  inevi- 
table results.  There  must  be  a  separation  of  rings, 
all  lying  in  one  plane,  a  generation  of  planets  and 


98  THE  AIRORAPHONE. 

satellites  all  rotating  alike— a  central  sun  and  engird- 
ling globes.  From  a  chaotic  mass,  through  the 
operation  of  natural  laws,  an  organized  system  has 
been  produced.  An  integration  of  matter  into  worlds 
has  taken  place  through  a  decline  of  heat.' 

"I  might  quote  from  other  of  our  scientists  on  this 
subject,  but,  to  be  brief,  I  may  say  that  the  evidence 
became  so  conclusive  that  the  Solar  theory  was  uni- 
versally accepted  by  our  nation.  Then  the  phi- 
losophers pointed  to  the  fact  that  the  teachings  of 
Creeto  in  some  respects  were  true.  The  Sun  was  the 
creator  or  parent  of  our  planet,  and  imparted  to  it 
all  its  life,  animal  and  vegetable,  just  as  Creeto  had 
taught,  and  hence  he,  Creeto,  himself  was  the  son  of 
the  Sun,  in  a  sense.  It  was  further  prophesied,  that  as 
Creeto's  teachings  had  been  so  productive  of  good, 
thus  showing  their  harmony  with  progress,  fur- 
ther knowledge  of  the  universe  would  prove  him 
right  in  other  respects.  His  had  been  a  great  moral 
system,  and  accordingly  his  principles  must  have 
been  consistent  with  truth.  The  next  question  that 
came  up  for  adjustment  was  the  doctrine  of  immor- 
tality. According  to  the  Solar  theory  man  is  the 
outcome  of  development  —  the  result  of  the  same  nat- 
ural forces  that  have  produced  our  planet.  Now,  it 
follows  from  the  origin  of  the  planets,  that  in  the 
course  of  time  they  must  cool  down  and  return  to  the 
parent  mass,  the  Sun;  and  the  planets  and  Sun  thus 
colliding  must  reduce  the  whole  mass  to  a  nebulous 
condition,  to  agMin  undergo  the  process  of  world- 
making.    The  planets  must  necessarily  be  reproduced, 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  99 

and  man,  as  being  an  inseparable  part  of  the  planets, 
must  also  be  reproduced.  But  as  each  solar  nebula 
must  lose  eoniG  of  its  energy  through  the  radiation 
of  heat,  it  was  evident  that  it  could  not  be  exactly 
the  same  planets  or  men  that  would  come  into  being 
at  each  successive  evolution  of  tlie  solar  nebula.  But 
what  becomes  of  the  heat,  or  radiant  energy? 

"Before  taking  up  this  question,!  suppose  you  will 
want  to  partake  of  tlu^  refreshments  which  I  see  our 
colored  friend  is  bringing  you,  and  as  it  is  my  own 
lunch  time  we  shall  rest  for  a  while." 

Just  then  we  heard  Pete's  voice  from  some  point 
down  the  trail :  "  Spoze  yo'  all  can't  quit  talkin'  wid 
dat  ole  debil  long  'nuff  to  come  an'  git  er  cup  er  hot 
coffee?''  It  was  evident  that  the  cook  was  not  going 
to  come  any  nearer.  We  were  somewhat  chilled,  and 
hungry  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  the  unmistakable 
odor  of  hot  coffee  in  the  air  made  us  feel  very  kindly 
disposed  towards  our  colored  friend.  If  the  refresh- 
ments would  not  come  to  us  we  should  go  to  the  re- 
freshments. Mr.  Lesage  and  the  student  retained 
their  positions  at  the  auroraphone,  as  if  fearful  to 
lose  sight  of  it  for  an  instant,  while  the  rest  of  us  hur- 
ried down  to  Pete. 

"Ain't  Marse  Gaston  comin'?"  he  asked.  We 
answered  in  the  negative,  and  hastened  to  assure  him 
that  we  would  carry  the  provision  up  to  Mr.  Lesage, 
and  eat  it  there. 

"No,  yo'  ain't  gwine  to  do  nuffen  ob  de  kind. 
None  ob  dese  vittles  gwine  onto  uneonscu'rated  groun' 
ef  ole  Pete  knows  hisse'f,"  and  he  tightened  bis  grip  on 


100  THE  AURORAPHOXE. 

the  handles  of  a  monster  Bteaniing  coffoe-jxjt  and  a 
huge  basket.  ''Ef  yo'  nil  promis'  not  to  take  nuffeu 
to  Marse  Gaston  yo'  can  licl])  vo'selves.''  We  imme- 
diately promised,  and  Mfl  went  ])a(k  to  tell  Mr.  Lo- 
sage  and  tlie  etudc^nt  tliat  they  would  have  to  come 
to  Pete  if  tlicy  A^ant^'d  lunch.  Ho  returned  in  a  few 
moments  accompanied  by  the  others.  While  we  were 
regaling  ourselves  on  the  hot,  fragrant  coffee  and  de- 
licious sandwiches,  Mr.  Lesage  again  essayed  to  put 
Pete  right  in  regard  to  the  discovery  we  had  made. 
"  We  were  not  sending  messages  to  the  devil,''  he  said, 
addressing  Pete,  "l)ut  to  Saturn,  the  planet '' 

**  Ob  course  Satan  planned  it,''  vociferated  Pete. 
''Dat's  ole  Belzebub  eb'ry  time.  Same  ole  debil  been 
lay'n  snar's  and  plan'en  to  get  de  Lawd's  chilnn 
eb'ry  since  de  world's  been  made."  It  was  impossible 
for  Mr.  Lesage  or  any  of  the  rest  of  us  to  convince 
him  that  we  were  not  in  league  with  Lis  Satanic  ma- 
jesty, and  but  for  the  tinal  culmination  of  the  matter, 
powerful  and  terrific  as  it  was, hewould, perhaps, have 
retained  his  wrong  idea. 

Pete's  thoughtfulness  for  our  welfare,  however,  was 
partly  a  scheme  to  prevail  upon  his  em])loyer  not  to 
sell  himself  to  Satan.  He  hail  thought  that  if  he 
could  get  Mr.  Lesage  beyond  the  immediate  inlluence 
of  the  evil  one,  he  could  persuade  him  not  to  return, 
and  he  now  fell  to  l)egging  and  entreating  liiiii  to  go 
home,  in  a  way  that  made  us  pity  him,  for  it  all  grew 
out  of  his  deep  concern  and  love  for  his  emi)loyer. 
Mr.  Lesage  was  vovy  giMitlo  and  patient  with  his  old 
comi)anion,  for  such  he  was,  rather  than  a  mere  serv- 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  101 

ing-man.     Pete  liad  been  his  most  faithful  attendant 
for  thirty  years,  the  old  gentleman  paying  him  nomi- 
nal wage.s  and  providing  for  Ids  every  want  and  need. 
A  few  days  after  Mr.  Lesage's  arrival  in  this  country 
his  life  had  been  saved  by  Pete.    Mr.  Lesage  was  driv- 
ing a  fractious  team,  which,  having  become  frightened 
and  unmanageable,  must  have  hurled  themselves  and 
driver   over     a    high    embankment    but   for   Pete's 
timely  interference.    Mr.   Lesage  had  made  inquiries 
about  the  brave  negio,  found   him  a  slave,  bought 
him,  made  him  free,  and  took  hirn  into  his  own  em- 
ploy.   Pete  could  neither  read  nor  write,  but  it  was 
his  boast    that   without    knowing   a  letter  he   had 
learned  telegraphy,  and,  within  the  limits  of  his  mea- 
gre vocabulary,  he  had   learned  it.    With  his  acute 
sense  of   hearing  and  powers  of   imitation,  he  had 
learned  by  entire  words  to  send  and  receive  simple 
messages,  and  he  had  been  Mr.  Lesage's  most  valua- 
ble assistant  in  his  experiments.     Pete's   knowledge 
of  telegraphy  and  the  instruments  was  such  that  the 
ticking  of  the  instrument  without  any  apparent  cause 
led  him  to  refer  it  to  the  supernatural,  and  occurring 
under  such  weird  circumstances,  and    mistaking  his 
employer's  agitation  for  fright,  he  had  attributed  the 
whole  matter  to  an  evil  rather  than  to  a  beneficent 
spirit.    The  idea  once  fixed  in  his  mind  that  we  were 
in  communication  with  the  evil  one,  everything  was 
thereafter    construed    into     a     confirmation    of   his 
error.     It  was  with  genuine  dismay  and  grief  that  he 
watched  his  employer  hurry  back  to  the  aurora])hone. 
Some  of  us  lingered  behind  and  helped  Pete  gather  up 


102  THE  aurohaphoxe. 

the  tin  cups  and  platters  used  during;  the  meal.  Just 
before  he  started  down  the  trail  Pete  went  a  little 
aside  and  picked  up  a  big*  heavy  overcoat  and  asked 
us  to  take  it  to  ''  Marse  Gaston.''  The  old  g-entleman 
was  very  glad  to  ensconce  himself  in  the  warm,  heavy 
folds  of  the  great  coat.  For  the  first  time  we  now 
thought  of  building  a  fire.  There  was  a  quantity  of 
dry  quaking  asp  poles  near  at  hand  and  we  soon  had 
a  great  pile  of  them  blazing  and  crackling  in  a  com- 
fortable manner.  The  clouds  had  by  this  time  nearly 
disappeared,  and  the  quivering  light  of  the  skies  had 
almost  faded  out.  When  the  first  intelligible  message 
had  been  received,  Mr.  Lesage  had  taken  from  a 
drawer  in  the  instrument  some  blocks  of  paper,  and 
he  and  the  student  had  written  down  messages  simul- 
taneously, so  far  as  recorded. 

Our  Saturnian  friend  seemed  to  require  considera- 
ble time  for  lunch,  and  the  student  finally  "called" 
Saturn.  In  ten  minutes'  time  came  the  answering 
clicks:  "I  returned  from  lunch  quite  awhile  ago,  but 
picked  up  the  '  Hourly  News '  which  had  been  brought 
in,  and  became  interested  in  an  article  on  '  The  Mili- 
tary Game,'  of  wiiich  more  anon,  It  was  right  to  call 
me,  so  long  as  it  was  done  respectfully.  I  may  as  well 
warn  you  now  that  anything  like  disrespect,  impa- 
tience or  presumption  will  not  be  permitted.  Only 
yesterday  two  planets  were  debarred  from  further 
communication  with  us,  and  severely  censured  for  im- 
pertinence; and  our  displeasure,  I  assure  you,  is  ex- 
pressed in  a  very  sudden  and  impressive  manner. 
You  will  wonder  at  the  necessity  of  such  severity  on 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  103 

the  part  of  a  higlily  developed  and  benevolent  people; 
but  it  is  vitally  necessarj^  for  reasons  which  you  can- 
not now  understand. 

''  We  were  speaking  of  the  disposition  of  the 
heat,  or  radiant  energy  of  the  universe.  A  result  of 
the  constant  radiation  of  heat  was  evident— the 
entire  solar  system  must  at  length  be  reduced  to  a 
dead,  black,  frozen  mass.  But  if  th^u  were  a  possible 
result,  why  had  it  not  already  been  consummated,  as 
there  had  been  infinite  past  time  for  its  completion? 
Because,  the  scientists  answered,  our  system  is  but  a 
tiny  part  of  another  greater  system,  and  when  in  the 
past  its  energy  became  expended,  it  has  collided  with 
the  other  members  of  the  greater  system,  and  so  has 
again  and  again  been  restored  to  life  and  activity. 
This,  however,  was  only  to  postpone  the  final  death 
of  our  system,  for  sooner  or  latei-  this  greater  system 
must  itself  radiate  away  all  its  energy  and  become  mo- 
tionless and  dead.  At  this  point  many  claimed  that  we 
should  have  to  accept  the  spii-itual  deity  over  and 
above  the  universe  of  (^ui*  neighboring  nation,  to  sus- 
tain our  system,  or  elselook  forward  to  itsfinal  death; 
and  even  in  this  case  he  unable  to  account  for  the  fact 
that  it  was  not  already  dead.  But  our  scientists  saw 
no  reason  why  they  should  stop  short  of  making  this 
last  greater  system  a  part  of  one  gr(\at  system  in- 
cluding the  whole  cosmos,  and  hence  its  life  be  sus- 
tained indefinitely.  Indefinitely,  but  not  infinitely, 
for  the  cosmos  as  a  whole  must  run  its  course  and  end 
M'ith  all  its  energy  dissipated  in  the  form  of  radiant 
heat.    Our  scientists  did  not  commit  the  error  of  con- 


104  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

tending  that  the  condensation  of  worlds  into  greater 
and  greater  systems  could  go  on  to  infinity  at  the 
expense  of  an  infinite  number  of  worlds,  scattered 
throughout  infinite  space.  To  make  our  system  a 
part  of  the  one  great  system  was  to  establish  our 
kinship  with  the  entire  cosmos;  our  union  with  any 
other  system  by  gravitation  depended  on  that  kin- 
ship, and  that  kinship  depended  on  the  fact  that  we 
had  at  one  time  been  a  part  of  the  mass  toward 
which  we  were  gravitating.  Hence  we  could  not  go 
on  forever  traveling  back  to  a  point  from  which  we 
must  have  at  one  time  started.  We  must  finally  get 
back  to  the  one  original  mass,  to  be  again  thrown 
out  into  systems  of  minor  worlds.  This  original 
mass,  it  was  evident,  must  be  isolated  from  any  other 
great  system  of  worlds,  that  might  possibly  be 
looked  to  for  a  new  supply  of  energy,  imparted  by  col- 
liding with  it;  to  suppose  such  other  system  of 
worlds  was  to  assume  tliat  it  was  only  a  part  of  our 
own  system,  or  our  system  a  part  of  it,  if  by  any 
law  we  were  to  renew  our  life  by  colliding  with  it,  and 
hence  we  must  consider  the  two  as  forming  the  one 
original  mass,  and  so  considered,  there  was  nothing 
now  to  prevent  the  complete  radiation  of  energy  and 
final  death.  The  scientists  now  maintained  that 
the  question  need  not  and  should  not  be  pushed  so 
far,  not  that  they  cared  for  the  ultimate  doom  of  the 
universe,  but  that  they  could  not  explain,  from  the 
principles  on  which  the  Solar  theory  was  itself  based, 
why  this  final  doom  had  not  already  overtaken  us. 
It  was  the  wise  men  of  the  nation  to  the  west  of  us 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  105 

that  persisted  in  pushing  these  cosmological  ques- 
tions so  far.  A  few  years  prior  to  the  time  the  subject 
had  reached  the  above  pliase,  their  teachers  had  tried 
to  prove  to  our  scholars  the  existence  of  the  spiritual 
deitj^  tliej  worshiped,  by  an  argument  founded  on 
causation.  Everything,  they  maintained,  is  caused 
or  determined  by  some  preceding  event,  and  this  event 
is  caused  by  sftme  prior  event,  and  so  on  backward  in 
the  chain  of  cause  and  effect  until  we  must  come  to 
the  First  Cause.  But  our  scliolarshad  asked,  if  every- 
thing is  caused,  wdio  or  what  created  the  First  Cause, 
or  caused  God?  They  had  replied,  reasonably 
enough,  that  the  question  must  not  be  pushed  to 
such  an  extent.  But  our  scholars  scoffed  at  them 
greatly,  for  being  afraid  to  accept  the  consequences  of 
their  own  logic.  And  now  our  scientists,  to  their 
shanio,  stood  up  and  unblushingly  asked  their  former 
opponents  not  to  push  the  question  so  far,  on  the 
plea  that  when  carried  so  far  beyond  the  possibility 
of  verification  it  became  mere  speculation,  both  un- 
profitable and  unmanageable,  as  if  a  single  inference 
in  the  whole  theory  of  6olar  evolution  could  at  that 
time  be  verified.  The^^  were  not  long,  however,  in 
realizing  that  if  the  higher  application  of  their  physi- 
cal principles  was  mere  speculation,  so  it  had  been  all 
along  the  line  of  argument.  If  a  comparatively  small 
mass  of  matter  like  the  Sun  would  cool  down  by  radi- 
ation, so  must  the  mass,  so  inconceivably  greater, 
formed  of  all  the  planets  and  suns  cool  down  by  radi- 
ation. And  if  this  refrigeration  was  to  take  place  in 
the  comparatively  jshort  time  they  predicted,  they 


106  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

could  but  feel  under  obligations  to  give  some  account 
of  what  the  universe  had  been  doing  in  all  past  time. 
If  the  tiny  planet  on  which  we  lived  was  related  to  the 
mass  into  which  it  must  finally  be  precipitated,  as 
child  to  parent,  so  must  the  greatest  system  of  which 
we  could  conceive  be  related  to  any  greater  mass 
with  which  it  could  possibly  collide.  These  things 
must  be  met  boldly  and  overcome,  or  else  in  consist- 
ency the  whole  Solar  theory  must  be  abandoned. 
From  the  fact  that  matter  was  making  its  way  back 
to  a  starting-point  the  conclusion  was  forced  upon  us 
that  the  universe  was  limited.  That  our  limited  uni- 
verse was  not  already  dead  forced  upon  us  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  surrounding  ethereal  medium,  by  which 
heat  is  enabled  to  radiate  away,  is  itself  limited. 
Thus  the  energy  of  the  universe  was  preserved  and  its 
eternal  existence  assured.  It  was  undergoing  a  great 
cycle,  one  half  of  which  was  evolution,  the  other  half 
dissolution.  It  had  been  undergoing  this  process 
throughout  all  past  time  and  would  so  continue 
throughout  all  future  time,  each  cycle  being  followed 
by  another,  exactly  like  the  preceding  one.  The  limit- 
ation and  eternal  activity  of  the  universe  are  now 
demonstrated  with  simple  accuracy  under  theorem 
first  of  Certology.  I  see  through  the  optigraph  that 
you  are  looking  out  into  starry  space  with  renewed 
interest, 

"Our  optigraph  we  regard  as  our  most  wonderful 
invention,  as  it  enables  us  to  see  much  that  is  going 
on  in  our  neighboring  planets,  but  only  in  the  larger 
cities,  or  where  we  are  connectediwith  an  instrument 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  107 

like  yours  and  employing  several  powers  of  artificial 
electricity  for  the  purpose  of  seeing.  The  jar  of  ma- 
chinery, the  roar  of  traffic,  the  vibrations  of  heat 
which  ascend  from  your  commercial  centres  form  an 
electrical  current  with  which  we  connect  a  current 
from  our  optigraph— a  natural  current  in  this  case— 
and  the  whole  city  and  immediate  surroundings  be- 
come visible.  Nothing  is  hid  from  our  view,  clouds, 
walls,  and  the  earth  itself,  becoming  transparent  with 
this  subtile  electrical  medium.  We  cannot  exactly 
read  mind,  but  from  the  play  of  the  features  we  can 
determine  your  people's  inmost  thoughts.  I  could 
anticipate  your  wishes  and  determine*  your  intentions, 
by  running  the  optigraph  all  the  time,  but  the  expense 
is  so  great  that  this  is  not  permissible.  With  the 
cities  it  is  different,  and  at  all  times  their  secrets  are 
open  to  us.  Oh,  the  deeds  of  crime  and  wrong  which 
we  daily  see  going  on !  Later  you  will  understand 
with  what  grief  we  behold  these  sad  things— sad,  for 
we  know  how  everything  gained  by  oppression  and 
injustice  must  be  atoned  for,  not  only  by  the  op- 
pressor but  by  all  of  human  kind.  You  will  wonder 
why  we  view  these  things  if  they  are  painful  to  us, 
and  we  are  powerless  to  prevent  them.  True,  we  are 
powerless  to  a  certain  extent,  but  the  knowledge  that 
we  behold  their  acts  can  but  have  a  wholesome  effect 
on  the  morals  of  the  people  resident  in  your  great 
cities. 

<'In  tracing  the  Solar  theory  to  limitation,  I 
omitted  many  particulars.  At  one  point  the  religion- 
ists protested  against  the  theory  on  the  ground  that 


108  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

it  had  a  tendency  to  destroy  the  common  belief  in  the 
special  creations  of  the  Sun-god.  But  when  it  was 
understood  that  the  Sun  was  the  source  of  the  energy 
by  which  all  phenomena  were  created,  it  only  in- 
creased their  reverence  for  their  Sun-god  to  learn 
the  process  of  evolution  by  which  he  worked.  The 
life  and  material  of  our  bodies  being  thus  referred  to 
the  Supreme  Being  did  much  toward  satisfying  the 
religious  sentiment.  But  more  difficulty  was  experi- 
enced when  the  people  were  called  upon  to  give  up 
their  belief  that  the  Sun  was  the  true  god.  Science  had 
shown  that  there  was  a  more  remote  sun  or  central 
orb  to  which  we  owed  allegiance  and  on  which  we  de- 
pended for  existence.  But  the  Sun  could  be  seen,  its 
warmth  was  felt,  and  its  beneficent  influence  was 
everywhere  apparent.  To  give  up  this  deity  for  one 
not  so  readily  perceived,  even  though  this  more  re- 
mote one  was  grander,  more  complex  and  powerful, 
was  hard  to  do.  But  the  truth  triumphed  and  the 
greater  deity  was  generally  accepted. 

''The  atheists  now  came  to  the  front  with  the  as- 
sertion that  this  was  rank  polytheism,  wliich  was 
equivalent  to  no  god  at  all.  Their  argument  was 
that  we  first  had  a  Sun-god,  then  another  greater  god 
to  which  the  first  paid  homage,  and  then  a  still  more 
remote  god  on  which  the  first  two  depended,  and  so 
on.  As  there  was  no  absolute  central  orb,  conse- 
quently there  was  no  true  god.  It  was  not  until  sci- 
ence had  demonstrated  the  limitation  of  the  universe, 
and  that  consequently  there  was  an  absolute  center, 
that  the  religionists  and  atheists  met  on  the  common 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  109 

ground  that  there  was  one  true  god,  and  that  was  the 
universe  as  a  whole.  There  was  unanimity  among  all 
classes  on  that  point,  and  also  that  the  first  duty  of 
intelligent  beings  was  to  learn  the  order  of  manifesta- 
tion of  this  Universe-god. 

"  Man  was  now  regarded  as  a  group  of  particles  or 
atoms,  peculiarly  combined,  each  particle  endowed 
with  its  portion  of  the  divine  force  that  moved  and  sus- 
tained the  universe.  Then  there  must  come  a  time 
when  each  individual  man  must  be  reproduced— must 
live  again,  just  as  he  is  now  living.  God  could  not 
die,  he  must  ever  continue  active.  His  substance 
was  limited,  and  consequently  there  must  come  a  time 
when  every  possible  new  combination  of  these  limited 
particles  must  be  exhausted — when  no  new  combina- 
tions can  be  effected  even  by  deity  himself.  Then  the 
combination  which  now  exists, and  of  which  we  are  a 
part,  must  be  reproduced,  and  we  ourselves  along  with 
it.  Thus  we  are  immortal.  Sooner  or  later  we  must 
in  the  very  nature  of  things  live  again.  Never  can  w^e 
disappear  from  the  scene. 

"  With  the  nation's  acceptance  of  the  doctrine  of 
immortality  there  was  a  deindod  improvement  in  its 
morals.  Wrong-doing,  it  was  known,  resulted  in 
suffering,  and  right-doing,  as  a  general  thing,  re- 
sulted in  a  gain  of  pleasure,  both  to  the  right-doer 
and  to  the  community.  With  the  realization  that  the 
painful  results  of  evil  deeds  w^ere  for  all  eternity,  and 
that  the  happy  results  of  good  deeds  were  also  eter- 
nal, much  stronger  motives  for  right-doing  were 
everywhere  presented.    Science  had  again  attested  to 


110  THE  AURORAl'IlOXE. 

the  soundness  of  Creeto's  teachings,  in  this  declaration 
of  future  rewards  and  punishments  for  deeds  done  in 
this  life.  The  proofs  of  the  doctrine  of  immortality 
and  its  ethical  bearings  are  now  found  under  theorem 
second  of  Certology. 

<<The  most  important  political  result  of  the  new 
moral  life  was  the  abolition  of  slavery.  Up  to  that 
time  slavery  had  been  considered  a  necessary  condi- 
tion to  social  stability.  It  was  an  institution  under 
which  many  forms  of  suffering,  injustice  and  igno- 
rance were  imposed  upon  a  great  class  of  human  be- 
ings, but  was  tolerated  on  the  plea  that  we  could  not 
get  along  without  it.  But  when  men  began  bo  realize 
that  the  wrongs  growing  out  of  slavery  must  always 
be  repeated— in  other  words,  were  eternal  wrongs,— a 
grent  effort  was  made  to  abolish  the  evil,  and  at  the 
expense  of  a  bloody  war  the  slaves  were  freed.  This 
was  a  great  advance,  and  for  many  years  our  people 
enjoyed  a  peace  and  prosperity  that  compensated  for 
the  many  hard -fought  battles  in  the  cause  of  human 
liberty.  Then  the  power  of  wealth  began  to  be  felt, 
and  the  result  was  that  it  soon  enslaved  a  greater 
number  of  our  citizens  than  there  had  been  serfs  in 
the  daj^s  of  slavery's  greatest  power.  And  now  the 
yoke  was  laid  upon  the  very  bone  and  sinew  of  the 
nation's  life.  Disturbances,  riots  and  civil  wars  grew 
out  of  this  condition  of  affairs.  The  monopolies  and 
wealthy  classes,  however,  always  triumphed.  Deeper 
wrongs  and  greater  oppressions  were  more  common 
than  when  men  were  made  slaves  by  law.  These 
wrongs  were  also  recognized  as  eternal,  but  the  greed 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  Ill 

for  money  seemed  to  have  deafened  all  classes  to  the 
cries  of  humanity  and  completely  numbed  the  moral 
sense.  The  rich  were  in  power.  They  were  wise 
enough  to  sacrifice  individual  prejudices  and  opinions 
for  the  common  good  of  their  class,  and  gained  by  the 
spirit  of  unity  that  this  disposition  generated.  Thus, 
while  in  the  minority,  they  could  so  shape  the  govern- 
ment that  their  enterprises  were  all  carried  on  law- 
fully, regardless  of  how  oppressive  their  measures 
might  be  to  the  poorer  classes.  These  latter  were,  as 
a  general  thing,  more  loyal  to  the  government  than 
their  more  fortunate  masters,  and  prided  themselves 
on  their  patriotism,  which,  of  course,  was  just  so 
much  more  capital  to  those  whose  financial  interests 
were  guarded  by  the  government.  The  arrogance 
and  complacency  of  the  aristocrats  made  the  poor 
only  more  envious,  reckless,  inefficient  and  miserable. 
By  the  use  of  our  improved  electrical  guns  the  masses 
could  wreak  sudden  and  terrible  vengeance  for  their 
many  wrongs,  when  goaded  to  the  point  of  riot  and 
rebellion,  but  the  reaction  was  far  more  terrible  on 
them,  and  after  suffering  greater  losses  and  hardships 
than  they  inflicted,  they  would  be  again  cowed  and 
become  toiling  millions  for  their  masters. 

"  Labor-saving  inventions,  which  should  have  been 
a  boon  to  all,  rather  added  to  the  poverty  of  the 
poor.  Machinery  had,  in  fact,  been  brought  to  such  a 
perfection,  that  it  seemed  to  be  endowed  with  greater 
intelligence  than  many  of  the  common  laborers.  By 
means  of  this  machinery  the  nation's  power  of  pro- 
duction   was   prodigious.     The    nation's    aggregate 


112  THE  Arii(fi:.\ri/(f\E. 

wealth,  however,  would  not  ha\e  siifiiced,  if  equally 
distributed,  to  havejjciven  more  than  a  mere  pittance  to 
eath  family.  But  it  was  evident  that  if  the  nation's 
j)()wer  of  production  was  rightly  directed  and  e('t)no- 
niized  all  would  have  an  abundance.  The  economists 
formulated  many  remedies  for  the  evil,  ])resented 
pages  and  })ages  bristling  with  statistics,  ])roi)hesied 
glorious  times  for  the  future,  and  accomi)lished  noth- 
ing. Besides  our  civil  strifes  we  were  every  few  years 
at  war  with  neighboring  nations.  You  will  bear  in 
mind  that  our  years  equal  about  thirty  of  yours,  and 
lliat  our  average  of  life  is  sixty  of  these  long  years. 
Our  days,  however,  are  about  half  as  long  as  yours. 
Owing  to  our  many  moons  and  luminous  rings  our 
nights  are  similar  to  your  cloudy  days,  and  our 
cloudiest  nights  are  as  your  brightest  moonlight 
nights.  1  now  see  by  the  general  activity  of  3'our 
cities  that  morning  is  at  hand.  You  will  want  your 
usual  meal  and  you  need  rest.  No  doubt  you  are  w  ill- 
ing  to  hear  more  of  our  history,  but  I  must  dismiss 
you  for  the  day.  To-night,  if  3'ou  wish,  I  shall  be 
pleased  to  continue,  but  until  then  adieu." 

In  fact  we  were  tired,  and  though  deej^ly  interested 
we  were  glad  to  rest.  We  went  to  the  house,  had 
breakfast,  and  then  slept  soundly  until  noon.  After 
dinner,  accompanied  by  our  new  friends,  we  visited 
the  cave.  We  first  made  a  pole  raft,  on  which  we 
pushed  ourselves  to  a  very  good  landing  just  within 
the  cavern.  We  s])ent  the  afternoon  enjoying  the  sub- 
terranean wonders.  Our  friends  had  often  heard  the 
music,  but  the  strong  current  flowing  into  the  dark, 


THE  FIRST  MESSAGE.  113 

forbidding-  hole  had  made  them  afraid  to  investigate 
its  cause.  It  was  a  source  of  pleasure  to  ourselves  to 
witness  their  surprise  and  delight  at  each  new  scene 
presented  to  view,  or  at  some  deeper  and  richer  ca- 
dence from  the  orchestra.  We  returned  to  "the  re- 
treat," as  Mr.  Lesage  called  his  home,  in  time  for  an 
early  supper,  and  as  the  shades  of  night  began  to 
fall  we  were  again  on  the  summit  of  the  mountain, 
Mr.  Lesage  and  tlie  student  stationed  at  the  aurora- 
phone,  the  rest  of  us  lounging  around  the  fire  which 
we  had  built.  Presently  the  anxiously  expected  click- 
ings  were  heard  and  we  were  all  attention.  True, 
those  of  us  who  could  not  understand  the  sound- 
character^^  gained  nothing  by  listening,  but  until  the 
student  passed  us  his  pages,  which  he  did  from  time  to 
time,  to  be  read  among  ourselves,  we  became  as  deeply 
absorbed  in  those  mysterious  clickings  as  the  two 
operators  themselves. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  dummies'   revolt. 

"The  nation  to  the  west  of  us,"  clicked  the  au- 
roraphone,  *'was  a  great  and  warlike  people,  with 
whom  we  were  often  at  war.  They  made  it  part  of 
their  religion  to  enforce  their  peculiar  tenets  and  be- 
liefs on  other  nations.  These  were  the  people  I  have 
before  mentioned,  as  teaching  the  existence  of  an  in- 
visible, spiritual  God,  the  transmigration  iof  souls, 
and  the  final  total  oblivion  of  mankind  by  its  absorp- 
tion into  the  one  great  spirit.  They  had  made  great 
progress  in  the  arts  and  sciences,  but  none  in  religion. 
Centuries  before,  their  prophet,  declaring  himself  to 
be  the  Son  of  God,  had  given  them  their  religion,  and 
they  still  adhered  to  its  principles  and  precepts. 
They  had  also  established  their  religion  in  other 
countries,  civilized  and  heathen.  Many  of  their  wise 
men  ranked  higher  in  the  scale  of  wisdom  and  good- 
ness than  our  own  teachers  and  philosophers.  We 
should  not  have  objected  to  their  establishing  their 
churches  among  our  people,  but  we  had  observed  that 
wherever  their  religion  was  introduced  their  national 
vice  of  intemperance  was  sure  to  follow — a  vice  prac- 
tically unknown  to  our  citizens.  Wliile  a  few  of  their 
wise  men  excelled  our  most  gifted  scholars  and  philan- 
thropists, yet,  owing  to  the  evil  of  drunkenness,  mill- 

114 


THE  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  115 

ions  of  their  people  were  far  lower  than  the  worst  of 
ours.  They  called  us  heathen  and  gross  materialists, 
but  onr  people  were  universally  happier,  and  w"  were 
content.  During  one  of  our  civil  wars,  this  nation  in- 
vaded our  frontier  and  gained  possession  of  one  of 
our  outlying  provinces.  When  a  few  years  later  we 
regained  our  territory,  what  was  our  grief  to  find 
many  of  our  countrymen  raving  maniacs,  made  so  by 
intemperance.  At  the  time  our  troops  entered  there- 
gained  province,  several  of  its  citizens  were  in  prison 
for  having  killed  their  own  children,  some  for  having 
murdered  their  wives,  others  for  raising  their  hands 
against  their  own  parents.  The  news  of  this  terrible 
condition  of  affairs  spread  like  wild -fire  throughout 
the  countr}'.  There  was  a  general  uprising;  all  classes 
were  united  and  acted  inunison;  war  was  declared;  vol- 
unteers poured  into  the  recruiting  posts ;  armies  were 
equipped  and  put  into  the  field,  and  departing  from 
our  time-honored  policy  of  acting  only  on  the  defensive, 
we  now  assumed  the  offensive  and  invaded  the  ene- 
mies' territory.  They  fought  well,  stimulated  to  al- 
most demoniacal  onslaughts  by  their  '  fighting  whis- 
key,' as  they  called  it.  But  our  troops  were  better 
disciplined,  more  manageable,  hardier  and  healthier; 
our  generals  cooler-headed;  officers  and  men  were 
stimulated  by  the  memory  of  tin*  terrible  afflictions 
brought  upon  their  fellow-citizens,  and  they  defeated 
the  enemy  in  almost  every  battle.  In  less  than  a  year 
their  capital  and  principal  cities  were  devastated  and 
they  sued  for  peace  on  any  terms.  Our  government 
insisted  on  but  two  conditions:     First,  they  must 


116  THE  ArnoRArnnxE. 

plr'dge  thenfselves  on  their  nation's  honor  to  make  no 
further  attempts  to  carry  their  rehgion  into  other 
countries  until  tliey  had  first  freed  their  own  from  the 
cur^e  of  intemperance;  second,  they  nmst  pay  Hberal 
pensions  to  the  famihes  of  which  an^^  member  had  be- 
come a  victim  to  drink.  The  terms  were  accepted  and 
the  war  ended. 

•' Our  government  now  had  time  to  deal  with  the 
plague  of  intemperance  in  its  own  province.  Fifteen 
hundred  inebriates  were  enrolled  on  the  pension  list. 
One  thousand  of  these  were  pronounced  incurable, 
having  reached  that  stage  where  they  could  not  resist 
the  temptation  to  drink.  Strict  prohibitory  meas- 
ures were  adopted.  Any  one  suspected  and  accused  of 
selling  intoxicating  drinks  was  to  be  tried,  and,  if  con- 
victed, hanged  forthwith.  Any  one  found  di'unk  was 
to  be  hanged  straightway  without  trial.  Two  pur- 
veyors of  liquor  were  hung,  five  inebriates  suffered  the 
same  penalty,  and  the  remaining  nine  hundred  and 
ninety-five  incurables  overcame  their  irresistible  ten- 
dency to  drink.  We  should  now  regard  these  meas- 
ures as  extreme  and  harsh,  but  their  wisdom  at  that 
time  was  attested  by  the  com]>lete  eradication  of  in- 
temperance. Our  neighboring  nation,  where  the  evil 
was  so  much  deeper  seated  and  widespread,  had, 
of  course,  to  adopt  less  stringent  measures.  But 
their  former  prohibitory  policy  of  persecuting  the 
dealer  in  intoxicants,  and  petting  the  consumer,  was 
abandoned.  Both  were  made  a  party  to  tlie  crime, 
and  suffered  the  same  penalties,  and  their  curse  of  in- 
temperance gradually  disappeared. 


THE  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  117 

"  The  war  was  not  without  its  beneficial  results. 
The  time,  energy  and  money  which  had  heretofore 
been  expended  by  the  defeated  nation  on  foreign  mis- 
sions were  now  directed  to  the  moral  needs  of  their 
own  people.  They  had  learned  much  of  the  invading 
army.  Tliey  realized  that  the  right,  even  when  tram- 
meled with  a  materialistic  religion,  was  more  power- 
ful than  error  espoused  by  a  true  [%)  religion.  On 
our  part,  our  soldiers  had  brought  back  wonderful 
stories  of  the  progress  in  art  and  science  that  the 
Macarians*  had  made.  They  also  told  of  the  many 
noble  deeds  they  had  witnessed  on  the  part  of  their 
soldiers  and  citizens;  of  the  refinement  and  culture 
and  nobility  of  those  who  were  truly  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  their  peculiar  religion.  Our  philosophers 
and  statesmen,  ever  liberal  and  progressive,  concluded 
from  these  reports  that  we  had  not  attached  suftlcient 
importance  to  the  religion  of  our  sister  nation.  Their 
religion,  no  doubt,  contained  the  germs  of  vital 
truths,  as  well  as  our  own  ancient  religions.  Our 
own  Greet o  had  taught  a  brotherhood  of  man- 
Jvind,  a  sympathy  and  love  between  all  of  human- 
kind, a  doing  unto  others  as  we  should  wish  to  be 
done  by,  very  unlike  the  antagonistic  attitude  which 
our  upper  and  lower  classes  maintained  towards  each 
other.  Perhaps  our  neighbor's  religion  might  supply 
the  missing  principles,  or  moral  force,  that  would  vi- 
talize our  Creeto's  teachings,  and  reconcile  the  clashing 
interests    of    hibor   and    capital.    Inasmuch   as  the 


So  called  from  th«'ir  iin)j>het,  Macah. 


118  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

Macarians  believed  that  we  were  emanations  from  the 
divine  substance,  to  be  again  reabsorbed  by  it,  and 
that  this  condition  was  one  of  peaceful  oblivion,  they 
were  in  harmony  with  our  own  religion  and  the  actual 
nature  of  things.  But  theirs  was  only  a  ])artial  per- 
ception of  the  truth,  as  the^'  did  not  see  that  in  the 
very  nature  of  things  we  must  of  necessity  come  out 
of  that  peaceful  oblivion  and  play  our  parts  on  the 
stage  of  life  as  before.  But  they  did  not  regard  this 
body  we  })ossess  as  the  true  self,  nor  the  body  of  the 
universe  as  the  true  God,  as  we  did.  According  to  the 
Macarians,  the  real  I.  the  true  ego,  was  a  spark, 
caught  at  (jur  creation  from  the  divine  spiritual  being 
that  made  and  controlled  the  universe;  and  this  di- 
vine spark  or  soul  resided  with  us,  as  our  personality, 
through  all  the  changes  of  the  material  body.  Our 
philosophers  had  asked  them  how  their  deity  could  be 
one  in  substance  and  yet  be  made  uj)  in  part  of  such 
dissimilar  sparks  as  were  exhibited  by  the  various 
personalities  of  humanity?  They  answered  that  the 
dissimilarity  was  in  the  visibh^  tabernacles,  the  bod- 
ies, alone;  that  the  souls,  disrobed  of  the  vile  bodies, 
were  in  no  wise  different  from  one  another,  except  in 
so  far  as  that  two  or  more  divine  sparks  exactly 
alike  are  not  the  same,  or  identical. 

"Our  ])l»ilosophers  felt  that  tlicy  had  not  probed 
quite  deep  enough  into  the  constitution  of  the  uni- 
verse. They  brlieved  that  this  doctrine  of  a  single  di- 
vine sul)stance,  which  had  been  a  leading  tenet  of  a 
great  leligioii.  must  represent  some  cosmical  truth. 
Matter  had   been  reduced  by  our  scientists  to  seven 


THb]  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  119 

hundred  different  ultimate  elements.  Time  and  again 
in  the  past  it  had  been  tlionght  that  matter  had  been 
reduced  to  final  elements,  only  to  find  later  on  that 
these  final  elements  were  reducible  to  two  or  more 
elements.  Up  to  the  time  that  matter  was  supposed 
to  consist  of  two  hundred  elements,  its  reduction 
was  thought  to  tend  towards  differentiation  of  the 
parts,  but  thereafter  each  new  reduction  showed  the 
new  elements  to  be  less  dissimilar,  and  the  seven  hun- 
dred elements  possessed  far  greater  resemblance  to  one 
another  than  the  two  hundred  had.  Researches  in  an- 
other direction  had  demonstrated  that  a  great  pro- 
portion of  the  variet}^  witnessed  in  phenomena  was 
due  to  peculiarities  of  motion  of  the  parts,  and  did 
not  depend  on  the  parts  themselves  being  different. 
Putting  these  two  facts  together,  science  declared  that 
matter  in  its  ultimate  state  was  homogeneous,  that 
is,  consisted  of  atoms  all  alike.  This  was  the  declara- 
tion for  which  philosophy  had  been  waiting.  It  was 
now  easy  to  comprehend  the  truths  our  neighbors' 
religion  represented.  The  Universe-god  was  still  su- 
preme, the  All,  the  One.  The  I,  or  ego,  or  personality, 
was  one  of  the  ultimate  atoms  of  this  Universe-god, 
was,  in  fact,  the  divine  spark  or  soul  caught  from  the 
divine  substance.  To  this  the  Macarian  philosophers 
cheerfully  assented  until,  a  few  3^ears  later,  our 
scholars  began  to  press  the  logical  consequences  of 
the  truth.  If  our  personalities  were  divine  sparks,  so 
were  the  personalities  of  animals,  plants,  even  the 
atoms  in  the  dead  inanimate  stone  were  divine  also. 
Their  philosophers  raised  a  great  cry  against  this. 


1 20  THE  A  moil.  1  rnnxE. 

It  was  to  make  them  no  better  than  the  despised  ani- 
mal, the  stupid  plant,  the  filthy  dirt,  they  contended. 
Our  philosophers  could  not  understand  why  these 
]ieo])l(',  who  enjoyed  so  many  advantages  over  the 
lower  forms  of  existence,  should  imagine  themselves 
reduced  to  their  level  by  a  simple  admission  of  the 
truth.  Much  less  could  they  understand  the  morbid 
desire  for  superiority  and  dominion  over  all  other 
creatures  that  their  childish  objections  to  the  truth 
implied.  But  while  the  Macarians  stormed  against 
our  ideas,  our  philosophers,  with  humility  and  ear- 
nest purpose,  were  only  too  willing  to  accept  their 
ideas  and  incorporate  them  into  our  own  philosoi)hy. 
As  their  doctrine  of  the  divine  spark  stood  for  a  great 
cosmical  truth  (more  fully  expounded  under  tlieorem 
third  of  Certology),  so  also  might  their  doctrine  of 
the  transmigration  of  souls."  • 

Here  the  auroraphone  ceased  ticking.  We  had 
asked  a  great  many  questions  and  the  above  had 
been  received  much  more  slowly  than  it  is  told.  One 
of  the  men  from  the  house  had  brought  our  midnight 
lunch,  and  it  had  been  disposed  of  so  long  ago  tliat  it 
was  now  a  pleasant  memory.  In  faet,  it  was  near 
morning,  and  we  remembered  that  the  thirty-six  hours 
of  favorable  conditions  were  up,  and  that  three  days 
must  now  elapse  before  we  should  again  hear  from 
Saturn.  We  returned  to  the  house  and  had  an  early 
breakfast.  During  the  meal  we  planned  our  return 
trip  to  look  after  our  teams.  By  the  mountain  road 
it  would  take  us  at  least  five  days  to  make  the  round 
trij).    Mr.  Lesage  insisted  on  our  return  so  earnestly 


THE  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  121 

that  we  could  not  refuse  him,  t]iouo;li,  in  fact,  we  had 
no  desire  to  do  so.    Through  the  cavern  we  could 
make  the  journey  in  three  days  and  so  be  back  in  time 
to   take  up  the  tlu-ead    of    Mr.    Bozar's   narrative. 
While  we  caught  two  hours'  sleep,  Mr.  Lesage's  men 
made  us  a  long,  light  ladder  with  which  to  climb  the 
wall  at  the  lower  end  of  tlie  cavern.     It  would  be 
rather   inconvenient   to    carry,  but   the  time   saved 
would  more  than  compensate  for  the   extra  labor. 
Two  hours  after  breakfast  we  were  en  route,  feeling 
rather  the  worse  from  our  interrupted  sleep.    When 
we  arrived  at  the  ''Tourists'  Bath"  we  experienced 
Some  difficulty  in  climbing  the  incline  after  reaching 
the  top  of  the  wall  by  means  of  the  ladder.    However, 
we  had  brought  our  rope,  and  Jim,  having  first  tied 
one  end  of  it  around  his  body,  crawled  on  his  hands 
and  kne^s  to  the  pit  by  which  we  had  entered.    He 
threw  the  rope  over  the  log  and  made  it  fast,  so  that 
the  rest  of  us  had  the  rope  to  assist  us  in  the  ascent. 
We  soon  made  our  way  out  througli  the  two  ante- 
rooms and  hastened  to  our  camp,  which  we  reached 
just   at   dark.      We   found    everything    as   we    had 
left  it.    Our  teams  were  comfortable  and  had  not  suf- 
fered in  the  least.    The  following  day  we  started  out 
to  find  Mr.  Pardee  with  a  view  to  placing  our  wagons 
and  teams  under  his  care.     We  found  his  ranch  but  he 
had  not  yet  returned  from  liis  bear  liunt.    His  son,  a 
bright  handsome  lad  of  fifteen,  offered  to  take  charge 
of   our  property  until  his  father  n^turned.    We  en- 
deavored to  fix  upon  the  pric«  of  his  services  with  his 
mother,  who,  thougli  still  confined  to  her  bed,  was 


122  THK  MlinRAPJJOXE. 

very  talkative  and  hospitable,  telling  uh  their  history 
from  the  time  they  filed  their  claiiii  in  (J."*,  up  to  tlie 
present,  and  nr«i:in<:^  us  to  make  ourselves  at  home, 
but  stoutly  refusin*;-  to  accej^t  any  compensation  for 
the  favor  we  asked.  Telling  "  Bub,"  as  he  was  called, 
that  we  should  pay  him  for  his  trouble,  we  returned 
for  the  wagons  and  teams,  the  lad  accompanying  us. 
His  alacrity  and  skill,  in  helping  to  harness  and  hitch 
up,  convinced  us  that  our  property  would  be  in  the 
hands  of  a  safe  and  zealous  guardian.  The  wagons 
were  left  in  the  yard  near  the  house,  and  the  teams 
turned  into  a  large  pasture,  to  make  friends  with  a 
bronco  and  milch  cow,  this  being  all  the  stock  that 
the  hunter  possessed.  Besides  Bub  and  the  <'kid," 
there  was  another  child,  a  little  girl  of  twelve  years, 
with  all  her  father's  beauty  and  frankness.  Rose — and 
a  little  mountain  rose-bud  she  was — proved  a  capable 
assistant  to  Bub,  leading  the  two  horses  to  pasture 
while  he  took  charge  of  the  mules.  We  started  on  our 
return  trip  to  the  "retreat"  early  in  the  morning  of 
the  third  day,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  we  were  again 
thrilling  with  the  grantl  strains  of  the  orchestra.  At 
dark  we  were  once  more  enjoying  Mr.  Lesage's  hospi- 
tality and  praising  Pete's  divine  cooking.  It  must  not 
be  supposed  from  the  omission  to  record  the  fact  that 
we  had  missed  any  meals  during  our  absence.  Three 
square  meals  a  day  had  formed  pleasant  breaks  in 
the  monotony  of  the  trip.  Just  how  we  enjoyed  those 
meals  can  be  fully  appreciated  only  by  pedestrians 
who  for  twelve  hours  a  day  have  gathered  oxygenated    ^ 


THE  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  128 

mountain  air  in  the  stalactitic  intrioades  of  pliosplio- 
rescently  illuminated  caverns. 

During  our  absence  a  rude  pole-house  had  been 
constructed  over  the  auroraphone  and  furnished  with 
a  camp  stove  and  chairs,  so  that  we  should  be  more 
comfortable  henceforth  in  our  attendance  on  the  won- 
derful instrument. 

A  little  after  dark  we  repaired  to  the  summit.  A 
thunderstorm  was  raging  in  the  valley  to  the  east  of 
us,  and  it  was  not  until  it  had  subsided  that  we  got 
an  answer  to  our  repeated  calls  to  Saturn.  After  ex- 
plaining that  the  electrical  storm  (indicating  that  the 
atmosphere  was  overcharged  with  electricity,  which 
interfered  with  the  natural  currents)  delayed  his  com- 
munication, Mr.  Bozar  continued  his  story: 

"In  addition  to  its  inability  to  remedy  the  labor 
troubles,'' he  said,  "our  religion  had  another  defect: 
it  did  not  meet  the  demand  for  simple  justice.  As  it 
then  stood,  the  immortality  which  it  assured  us 
seemed  unjust,  though  as  it  was  clearly  the  decree  of 
the  God-universe,  it  was  deemed  irreverent  to  question 
God's  wisdom  and  justice  in  establishing  such  an 
order  of  things.  Scepticism,  however,  had  long  been 
boldly  declaring  that  a  god  who  would  doom  the  poor 
and  suffering  of  humanity  to  one  round  of  hopeless 
sorrow  throughout  all  eternity  was  guilty  of  gross 
injustice.  That  we  should  all  live  again,  the  rich  and 
happy  to  glide  through  their  joyful  experiences,  the 
poor  and  miserable  to  grope  through  their  weary 
round  of  toil  and  pain,  was  not  questioned  by  the 
skeptics.    The  nonsense  of  believing  in  any  just  and 


124  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

Ijeneficent  Power  in  the  face  of  these  facts  was  the 
point  they  made.  The  doctrine  of  an  intermediate 
state  between  death  and  our  reproduction  had  never 
been  taught.  The  inconceivable  stretch  of  time  (re- 
quired to  work  out  every  possible  combination  of 
atoms)  which  must  elapse  between  death  and  our  res- 
toration to  life  was  supposed  to  be  a  peaceful  blank. 
As  we  were  ourselves  by  virtue  of  our  peculiarly  com- 
bined atoms,  there  could  be  no  resurrection  until  this 
peculiar  combination  of  atoms  was  again  effected. 
During  the  succeeding  cycle  of  the  universe,  there 
would  be  living  beings  as  in  the  present  cycle,  but  as 
the  various  elements  must  necessarily  be  differently 
combined,  there  could  be  no  identity  of  individuals 
until  billions  and  billions  of  cycles  had  exhausted 
every  different  combination  possible.  But  now  the 
homogeneity  of  matter,  and  the  doi-trine  of  the  divine 
spark,  or  ultimate-atom  personality  called  for  a  modi- 
fication of  our  religion,  and  the  Macarians'  theory  of 
the  transmigration  of  souls  seemed  to  contain  the 
germ  of  the  new  cosmical  truth  to  be  learned. 

"The  first  deduction  from  homogeneity  was  that 
the  phenomena  of  eacli  succeeding  cycle  would  be 
identical  with  the  phenomena  of  th(^  present  cycle,  in 
fact,  identical  with  all  preceding  cycles— atoms  all  alike 
combining  under  the  same  force  mu-it  produce  a  suc- 
cession of  the  same  results.  A  further  conclusion  f.om 
the  eternal  activity  of  the  universe  was  now  necessi- 
tated—the universal  exchange  of  the  relative  posi- 
tions of  the  ultimate  atoms.  No  activity  could  occur 
except  by  incessant  change  of  atoms  from  one  place 


THE  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  125 

to  another.  True,  in  great  epochs  constituting  great 
cycles,  every  atom  must  stand  in  the  same  rela- 
tion to  all  other  atoms  that  it  does  in  the  present 
cycle.  But  while  each  cycle  is  a  repetition  of  some 
remote  cycle,  yet  it  is  a  change  from  the  cycle  imme- 
diately preceding  it." 

We  here  '-called"  Saturn  and  asked  for  a  more 
lucid  explanation,  not  forgetting,  however,  to  make 
the  request  very  "respectfully." 

"For  illustration,"  clicked  the  auroraphone,  "let 
us  suppose  the  universe  to  contain  but  six  atoms  all 
alike,  which  we  shall  name  A,  B,  C,  D,  E  and  F.  The 
only  phenomenon  produced  during  a  cycle  is  a  man 
composed  of  these  six  atoms  —  head,  body,  two 
arms  and  two  legs.  During  the  present  cycle  A  is 
the  head,  B  the  body,  C,  D,  arms,  E,  F,  legs. 
During  the  next  cycle  the  same  man  is  pro- 
duced, for  there  are  the  same  atoms  and  the  same 
force  to  combine  them ;  but  now  A  is  an  arm,  B  the 
head,  etc.  If  A  experienced  certain  sensations  by  be- 
ing the  head,  so  now  B,  by  being  the  head,  will  expe- 
rience A's  sensations  in  every  particular.  The  rela- 
tive positions  of  the  atoms  are  all  changed  during 
each  cycle,  and  finally  A  will  have  come  around  to  be 
head  again.  Now  we  multiply  the  atoms  and  phe- 
nomenon by  two,  so  we  have  two  men  and  twelve 
atoms.  Before  A,  starting  as  the  head  of  the  first, 
shall  regain  that  position,  he  must  have  been  the 
head,  body,  arms  and  logs  of  the  second  man,  while 
the  atoms  of  the  second  man  must  undergo  a  change 
of  position  with  the  atoms  of  the  first  man.    The  two 


126  THE  AnilUL\PH(L\E. 

men  are  produci^d  at  eatli  recnirring  cycle,  taking 
twelve  cj^cles  in  this  simple  case  before  a  repetition  of 
the  first  positions  occurs  or  a  g'reat  cycle  is  com- 
pleted. But  while  the  twelfth  cycle  is  a  repetition  of 
the  cycle  twelve  cycles  back,  yet  it  is  different  from  the 
cycle  immediately  precedinj^  it,  for,  during  the  eleven 
cycles,  A  has  not  been  the  head  of  the  first  man,  but 
has  been  filling  the  eleven  other  positions  of  this 
twelve-fold  universe.  Now,  with  a  universe  of  homo- 
geneous atoms,  and  some  certain  one  of  these  atoms 
being  our  personality  or  soul,  it  was  evident  that  this 
personality,  the  /,  must  become  the  personality,  the  I 
of  every  organism  developed,  plant,  animal  and  hu- 
man, and  so  the  universal  and  complete  transmigra- 
tion of  souls  must  be  admitted.  During  every  cycle 
the  same  organisms,  the  same  general  results,  the 
same  succession  of  events  will  be  produced,  but  there 
will  have  been  a  change  of  i)ersonality.  In  course  of 
time  I  shall  have  acted  as  the  personality  of  every 
living  organism,  shall  have  experienced  every  sensa- 
tion, shed  every  tear,  felt  every  pain,  thrilled  with 
every  joy  that  the  vast  universe  has  known.  Thus 
there  is  not  only  the  brotherhood  of  mankind,  but 
the  onehood  of  all  existence.  The  divine-spark  or  ul- 
timate-atom personality  is  no  less  itself  by  being  in- 
corporated in  another  organism  as  its  personality. 
In  time,  as  the  personality  of  your  organism,  I  shall 
know  and  feel  all  3'ou  have  known  and  felt;  you,  your 
real  self,  your  ego,  will  come  to  inhabit  my  organism 
and  know  and  feel  all  I  have  known  and  felt.  Though 
so  far  apart  we  are  virtually  one.    The  Permutation  of 


THE  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  V21 

Personality,  as  we  call  it,  is  now  so  clearly  expounded 
and  proved  under  theorem  fourth  of  Certology,  that 
we  wonder  at  the  doubt  and  perplexity  it  once  occa- 
sioned. 

<' The  truth  once  propounded  and  understood,  our 
people  accepted  it  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  Tlie  skep- 
tics, realizing  the  supreme  Justice  of  the  Universe-god, 
became  its  most  devout  worshipers.  Pessimists  who 
had  doubted  the  wisdom  and  justice  of  God  from  the 
facts  of  evil  and  misery,  now  became  the  loudest  in 
their  praise  of  the  cosmic  deity,  and  its  exact  justice 
to  all.  Long  ago  a  sect  had  taught  that  the  good 
and  virtuous,  at  death,  were  transported  to  a  hea- 
venly region  to  enjoy  uninterrupted  happiness;  the 
wicked  to  be  doomed  to  uninterrupted  misery.  The 
happiness  and  suffering  of  these  two  classes,  however, 
could  not  be  defined  as  in  any  way  differing  from  the 
happiness  and  suffering  of  the  present.  Science  had 
demonstrated  that  happiness  and  suffering  were  rela- 
tive, the  one  dependent  on  the  other.  A  condition  of 
uninterrupted  happiness,  no  matter  how  various  and 
dissimilar  the  causes  which  produce  it,  if  long  contin- 
ued, must  finally  result  in  unconsciousness.  No  suffer- 
ing no  pleasure,  is  the  true  statement.  Every  thrill  of 
pleasure  is  possible  only  in  contrast  to  some  throe  of 
pain,  the  latter  suffered  in  part  by  the  individual,  in 
part  by  ancestors,  in  part  by  those  with  whom  he  is 
surrounded.  Evil  and  suffering  are  thus  as  essential 
to  a  life  worth  living  as  are  virtue  and  pleasure ;  so  the 
justice  and  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Universe-god 
is  in  no  wise  jeopardized  by  the  presence  of  crime  and 


128  THE  AURORArnUNE. 

misery  in  the  world.  If  one  individual  or  generation 
bears  a  greater  burden  than  another,  during  one  cycle 
of  the  universe,  yet  in  some  future  cycle,  by  the  per- 
mutation of  personality,  they  reap  their  reward. 

"The great  expansion  of  sympathy  and  love  which 
the  new  doctrine  occasioned  now  began  to  bear  fruit. 
The  dissatisfaction  and  hatred  with  which  the  poor  had 
regarded  the  rich  gave  way  to  content,  when  they  re- 
membered that  the  very  advantages  which  tliey  had 
so  often  looked  upon  with  envy  and  bitterness  must 
in  the  eternal  justness  and  fitness  of  things  be  their 
own.  On  the  other  hand,  the  rich,  when  they  realized 
that  all  the  wretchedness,  hopelessness,  ignorance  and 
degradation  of  the  poor  must  ultimately  be  their  own, 
found  their  complacency  and  arrogance  giving  way 
to  sympathy,  which  expressed  itself  in  deeds  of  char- 
ity and  kindness.  Both  classes  remembered  the  suf- 
ferings of  ancestors  who  had  toiled  and  fought  and 
died  for  the  liberty  we  pow  enjoyed.  A  new  inspira- 
tion was  given  in  the  thought  that  every  effort  to- 
ward a  better  life  was  so  much  toward  repaying  the 
martyrs  of  the  past.  Evei-y  advance  made,  every  trl- 
umpli  over  wrong,  every  step  toward  morality,  would 
benefit  not  only  ourselves,  but  every  creature  in  exist- 
ence, or  tliat  ever  has  been  in  existence.  AVith  such 
motives  for  action,  our  nation  in  an  incredibly  short 
time  was  like  one  vast  family  where  all  was  sympathy, 
kindness  and  love.  Peace  and  prosperity  reigned. 
The  people  were  so  universally  hai)py  and  contented 
that  we  began  to  believe  that  ours  was  the  superior 
planet  of  all  the  universe,  and  our  nation  the  great- 


THE  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  129 

est  and  wisest  on  our  planet.  Such  a  millennium-like 
condition,  we  thought,  was  only  possible  at  the  apex 
of  progression. 

''Mechanical  devices  had  been  brought  to  a  mar- 
velous degree  of  perfection.  With  the  discovery  of 
matal,  a  material  strong  as  steel  and  light  as  cork, 
machines  tliat  it  had  been  thought  impossible  to 
make  were  constructed  with  ease.  Air  ships  and  fly- 
ing machines  were  as  common  as  electrical  road-carts 
had  been  previous  to  the  discovery  of  matal.  Al- 
though we  supposed  that  the  desire  to  have  dominion 
over  some  one  of  our  own  kind  had  long  been  sup- 
pressed, yet  machinery,  as  it  approached  perfection, 
began  to  assume  the  human  form.  The  most  efl3cient 
machines  were  made  in  the  semblance  of  man.  Such 
perfection  was  attained  in  this  direction  that  all  the 
ordinary  labor  was  done  by  these  human-like  ma- 
chines. Every  man  had  his  duplicate  in  matal — deli- 
cate wheels,  cogs  and  little  giant  springs.  Later  they 
performed  the  most  difficult  work,  and  filled  positions 
of  the  greatest  responsibility.  They  made  the  most 
efficient  soldiers,  the  best  accountants,  the  safest 
bank  cashiers.  Other  nations  are  using  these  inven- 
tions and  adding  to  their  usefulness.  For  years  our 
wars  were  carried  on  with  these  dummies  for  soldiers. 
At  first  officers  superintended  in  person  all  the 
marches  and  military  manopuvres.  Then,  in  time,  the 
officers'  dummies  were  competent  to  take  charge  of 
the  mechanical  troops,  while  the  officers  merely  su- 
perintended the  men  who  chargcMl  the  dummies. 
These    latter   are  propelled    by  small   but  powerful 


130  Tin:  Af  RnnM'lIOXE. 

electroinotere  wliicli  from  time  to  time  have  to  l>o  re- 
charged. Certain  laws  governed  the  captin»'  .-nid  de- 
strnclion  of  tliese  automatic  soldiers.  But  wars  have 
long  ngo  ix'comc  obsolete,  and  all  civil  and  interna- 
tional difficulties  arc  settled  l»y  arbitration. 

''Military  operations  with  dummies  is  now  onr 
national  game.  Boys  play  at  it  for  health  and  r;'c- 
reation.  Professionals  engage  in  it  for  profit  ami 
fame.  All  classes  take  great  interest  in  it,  and  it  af- 
fords a  great  deal  of  wholesome  and  ])loasant  excite- 
ment and  amusement. 

"  We  have  constantly  progressed,  all  forgetful  of  the 
fact  that  progress  is  constantly  generating  forces 
which  if  not  guarded  against  end  in  retrogression. 
We  have  converted  all  the  nations  of  Saturn  to  our 
form  of  government,  which  is  a  republic,  and  to  our 
religion  — faith  in  the  permutation  of  personality,  and 
that  as  we  do  unto  others  so  shall  we  be  done  by. 
This  was  not  don*^  l)y  force  of  arms  nor  by  sending 
missionaries  to  other  countries.  Our  zeal  was  all 
spent  at  home  in  the  cause  of  humanity-, — righting 
wrongs,  teaching  the  love  of  justice,  the  practice  of 
morality,  and  a  broad  sympathy  for  human-kind. 
Our  success  was  so  great  that  other  countries  sent 
their  wise  men  to  us  to  learn  the  truths  and  principles 
that  had  wrought  such  harmony  and  love  among  our 
people.  Our  philosophers  and  statesmen  had  decided 
that  that  would  be  the  speediest  way  to  evangelize 
the  world,  and  so  it  has  proved  to  be.  Ours  was  a 
true  religion,  and  its  spirit  and  power  spread  abroad, 
through  those  wIkj  came  from  every  land  to  carry 


THE  DUMMIES'   REVOLT.  131 

home  the  same  f^ood  principles  of  justice  and  sym- 
patliy  that  have  lifted  us  to  our  present  greatness. 

*'  I  have  hurried  this  (  omniunieation  very  much  in 
order  to  bring  our  history  down  to  the  present  hour. 
You  will  now  better  understand  th'  gi-eat  r'alainity 
which  has  overtaken  us  in  the  past  two  days  —  our 
time.  The  latc^st  improvement  in  thi^  dummy  is  an 
adjustment  whereby  it  charges  its  own  electrometer, 
making  it  entirely  independent  of  helj)  or  supervision 
fi'om  owners  or  attendants.  Thus  humanity  has  been 
relieved  of  all  labor  whatever.  P^or  years  our  atten- 
tion has  been  given  to  pleasure  and  to  moral  and  in- 
tellectual improvements,  to  tlie  neglect  of  all  the  use- 
ful arts  of  building,  cooking  and  tailoring.  By  means 
ot  pleasant  recreation  and  the  wonderful  i)rogress  of 
medical  science  we  have  guarded  against  any  depre- 
ciation of  the  general  health,  the  only  penalty,  as  we 
thought, that  could  possibly  result  fiom  the  abandon- 
ment of  labor.  Bnt  how  fearfully  were  we  mistaken! 
Those  fiendish  dummies,  after  ;dl  our  pains  to  create 
them,  have  proved  themselves  most  ungrateful 
wretches.  They  are  all  on  a  strike,  every  man,  woman 
and  child  of  them.  Not  a  peaceful  strike,  but  an 
armed  revolt.  We  cannot  understand  it  at  all,  nor 
did  we  ever  dream  of  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing. 
They  cannot  possibly  have  any  motive.  They  pos- 
sess no  feeling,  Tliey  have  absolutely  nothing  to  gain 
by  it.  Still  we  cannot  rail  at  th<'m  in  reason.  They 
are  our  own  creations,  and  had  we  been  content  to 
continue  the  mere  trifle  of  labor  necessary  to  charge 
them,  they    would    still    be   under  our  control,  use- 


132  THE  AUKORAPHONE. 

lul  and  obedient  servants.  But  as  it  is  we  are  as  help- 
less <Ms  rliildren  in  tlic  liaiids  of  p^iants.  Comniunica- 
tions  from  all  over  llie  world  state  that  the  u])risinf^ 
is  p'neral  and  jn-econrerted,  the  intent  heinjji;  to  ov«'r- 
throw  all  povci  innent.  In  the  j^reat  scjuare  just  out- 
side our  city's  walls,  where  our  military  <2:ames  take 
])lae(>,  the  dummies  ai'e  drillinji',  their  itaniicrs  Hyinp;, 
drums  l)eatin<2:,;nid  huLiles  hlowin^-.  They  have  taken 
nearly  all  of  tlu?  arms  belonging  to  the  city.  Their 
messengers  are  seen  going  and  coming  to  and  from 
otlu^r  cities.  We  have  closed  the  massive  gates,  which 
makes  the  city  practically  safe  for  the  time  being.  As 
the  gates  close,  a  net-work  of  wires  connected  with 
powerful  batteries  spreads  over  the  city,  so  that  any 
attempt  to  gain  an  entrance  by  flying  machines  w  ill 
prove  fruitless.  Quite  a  body  of  dummies  had  been 
stationed  to  guard  the  gates,  and  only  by  surprising 
them  with  an  overwhelming  force  of  old-fashioned 
dummies  that  had  long  ago  been  laid  aside  because 
they  needed  to  be  charged,  were  we  enabled  to  gain 
the  gates.  Many  of  our  citizens  had  to  participate  in 
the  struggle  and  several  were  slain,  the  first  blood 
shed  in  war  for  years.  The  outlook  is  very  serious  in- 
deed. One  thing  is  certain,  the  world  is  on  the  eve  of 
one  of  the  most  terrible  conflicts  ever  known.  More  of 
our  people  will  fall  th.-ln  in  all  the  wai's  of  the  past. 
The  dummies  are  unfeeling,  tireless,  swift,  strong,  well 
disciplined,  and  have  the  best  officers,  and  nearly  all 
the  arms.  Our  only  h()i)e  is  that  we  may  hit  upon 
some  military  tactics  that  they  are  not  adjusted  to 
meet.    Many  cities  are  without  walls  or  protection  oi 


THE  DFMMIES'   REVOLT.  1^8 

any  kind,  and   their  citizens   iiave  been  compelled  to 
flee  to  mountains  and  other  cities  foi-  refuge.    Thou- 
sands and   thousands  of  them  have  been  intercepted 
and  slain  while  fleeing  to  fortified  cities  for  protection. 
''The  'Hourly  News'  ascribes  the  revolt  to  the  uni- 
versal tendLiicy  to  blindly  exercise  a  superior  power, 
just  for  the  sake  of  exercising  it.    It  further  takes  the 
ground  that  this  is  but  the  reaction  of  a  superior 
power  used  ages  ago,  when  the  upper  classes  kept  the 
lower,  ground  down  for  no  other  cause  than  that  tliev 
could  do  it.    It  cites  the  fact,  in  su])port  of  its  posi- 
tion, that  so  soon  as  a  more  sympathetic  policy  was 
adopted,  the  condition   of  the   wealthy  was  greatly 
improved,  to  say  nothing  of  the  improved  condition 
of  the  poor.    It  further  holds  that  we  must  learn  from 
this,  if  indeed  any  of  us  are  spared,  that  men,  as  na- 
tions oras individuals, cannot  cease  to  engage  in  man- 
ual labor.     A  certain  amount  of  useful  labor  with  the 
hands,  daily  performed,  it  maintains,  is  the  price  to 
be  paid  for  immunity  from  such  bloody  calamities  as 
the  one  which  now  threatens  to  sweep  the  human  race 
from  the  face  of  our  planet.     By  the  inconvenience  of 
labor,  or  the  pain  of  daily  exertions  put  forth  to  the 
production  of  some  useful  thing,  it  contends,  those 
destructive  forces  which  are  constantly  generated  in 
the  course  of  progress  will  be  met  and  overcome,  while 
they  are  isolated  and  weak  — before  they  unite  and 
grow  into  irresistible  waves  to  overwhelm  us. 

"  But  I  see  it  is  again  morning  with  you,  and  as  I 
am  detailed  to  stand  guard  for  two  hours  I  must 
now  go.     I  shall  get  four  hours'  rest,  and  will  be 


134  THE  AFRORAPHOXK. 

here  at  your  stiViee  at  tlio  noon  hour,  as  you  couut 
time."  • 

Filled  with  deep  concern  lor  our  Saturnian  friends 
we  made  our  ^\  ay  to  the  house.  We  found  breakfast 
ready  and  Pete  in  att(^ndance.  He  was  very  uncom- 
municative and  seemed  absorbed  with  some  o;reat  re- 
solve of  his  own,  though  it  was  only  after  learnin«i-  the 
fact  that  we  so  interpreted  his  mood.  We  lost  an 
hour  or  so  of  much  needed  sleep  in  discussing  the 
probable  termination  of  the  dummies'  revolt.  How- 
ever, we  slept  away  the  most  of  the  forenoon.  At 
twelve  Pete  awaked  us  for  dinner,  and  after  placinu: 
the  meal  on  the  table  withdrew  and  left  us  to  wait  on 
ourselves.  We  hurried  through  the  meal,  so  anxious 
were  we  to  learn  of  the  condition  of  affairs  in  the  fai'- 
away  planet,  and  at  half  past  twelve  we  started  up 
the  trail.  When  about  two  thirds  the  wny  up,  we  met 
Pete  hurraing  down.  There  was  a  look  of  exultation 
on  his  face  that  at  once  aroused  our  fears  for  the 
safety  of  tlie  auroraphone.  His  first  words  confirmed 
them,  but  not  as  we  expected. 

''No  use  to  go  up  dar  any  mo',  Marse  Gaston,"  he 
said  :  "  I  done  made  sho'  de  ole  debil  wa'  gwine  to  get 
3'o',  an'  I  says,  '  Pete,  yo'  jes'  got  to  save  Marse  Gas- 
ton. The  good  book  says  to  resist  tie  debil  an'  he 
will  flee  frumyo'.  So  I  jes'  goes  to  dat  telegraph'n' 
'sheen  an'  sends  ole  Beelzebub  er  telegram  myse'f. 
'Yo'  ole  debil,'  says  I,  'jes'  get  clar  behind  mo  an' 
neber  let  me  see  yo'  talk'n'  to  Marse  Gaston  agin.' 
Art(^r  I  done  t(^lo  'ini  what's  what  J  come  away  pow'- 
ful  sud'n,  fear'n'  de  ole  cus  would  try  to  palaver  me." 


THE  DUMMIES'   REVOLT.  135 

We  remembered  with  a  thrill  of  terror  what  we  had 
been  told  in  regard  to  being  respectful  in  our  commu- 
nications. With  one  accord  we  whirled  around  and 
essayed  to  rush  down  the  trail.  But  at  that  instant 
there  was  a  blinding  flash  of  light,  a  terrific  crash,  and 
I  knew  no  more  for  several  minutes.  I  was  recalled  to 
consciousness  by  Pete,  who  had  first  recovered  from 
the  shock,  calling  on  Mr.  Lesage  to  wake  up.  He  was 
doing  all  within  the  compass  of  his  powerful  voi(;e  to 
restore  the  old  gentleman  to  consciousness,  but  to  no 
purpose.  When  I  looked  around  the  others  were  sit- 
ting up,  but  still  too  bewildered  to  render  any  assist- 
ance to  Pete.  In  a  few  moments,  however,  we  were  all 
doing  our  utmost  to  aid  Pete  in  his  endeavors  to 
arouse  Mr.  Lesage,  but  our  united  exertions  produced 
no  signs  of  life.  We  constructed  a  rude  litter  and  (tar- 
ried him  to  the  house.  After  an  hour's  chafing  of  his 
body,  he  was  breathing  freely  but  still  unconscious. 
Pete,  up  to  the  time  that  Mr.  Lesage  showed  unmis- 
takable signs  of  life,  had  been  very  attentive,  but 
afterwards  kept  himself  aloof  from  the  sick  room.  He 
was  evidently  in  great  fear  of  the  reckoning  which 
must  come  when  his  employer  should  recover. 

When  Mr.  Lesage  was  found  to  be  resting  easily, 
we  left  him  in  care  of  his  men  and  made  our  way  to 
the  summit  to  see  what  damage  had  been  done.  The 
pole  house  and  auroraphone  were  scattered  about  in 
atoms.  A  great  fissure  marked  the  place  where  they 
had  stood.  The  charge  of  electricity  had  ploughed 
through  the  lake  and  into  the  cavern,  filling  the  en- 
trance with  a  mass  of  rock  that  would  take  years  to 


i 


136  THE  AURORAPHOXE. 

remove.  l*ete"s  little  knowledge  of  telegraphy  had 
worked  havoc  and  destruction  beyond  the  power  of 
man  to  repair.  We  should  be  only  too  glad  to  see  the 
settlement  between  Pete  and  his  employer,  when  the 
latter  should  learn  of  the  destruction  of  liis  in- 
strument. 

It  was  not  until  the  following  day  that  Mr.  Lesage 
learned  of  the  ruin  that  had  been  worked.  On  hear- 
ing the  particulars,  he  smiled  grimly  and  asked  for 
Pete.  Pete,  immediately  after  breakfast  that  morn- 
ing, had  taken  an  axe  and  gone  probably  a  mile  away 
to  chop  fire-wood.  He  realized  that  he  was  at  the 
bottom  of  the  mischief,  and  his  concern,  now,  was  not 
so  much  for  his  employer's  deliverance  from  Satan  as 
for  his  own  temporal  welfare.  I  went  after  Pete,  as  I 
was  not  loath  to  witness  his  misery  when  he  knew  he 
had  to  face  Mr.  Lesage.  Guided  by  the  sound  of  his 
axe  I  had  no  trouble  to  find  him.  He  guessed  my  er- 
rand, I  judged  from  his  lugubrious  countenance  as  I 
came  up  to  him.  ''Mr.  King,"  I  said,  addressing  him 
by  his  surname,  "Mr.  Lesage  has  a  little  matter  of 
business  to  discuss  with  you  and  begs  that  you  will 
grant  him  the  honor  of  a  personal  interview." 

"  Wha— what's  dat,  Boss,  Marse  Gaston  a  cussin'?" 
"  Mr.  Lesage  wants  to  see  you  in  his  room." 
"Now,  look  a  hyar.  Boss,'"  said  Pete,  pulling  out 
an  old  greasy  wallet,  "  Yo'  jes'  tell  Marse  Gaston  dat 
I  neber  know'ddedebil  wa'  gwine  to  flar'  up  so  mighty 
iiuffy-like  er  I  wouldn't  neber  said  nuf'n'  to  'im,an'  dat 
I's  mighty  sorry  he's  lost  his  telegraph'n'  'trivance. 
l"s  willin'  ter  pay  Marse  Gaston  ebery  cent  I  got  in  de 


THE  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  137 

worl'  and  wo'k  fo'  'im  all  de  rest  ob  my  days  ter  boot. 
I's  sabed  up  two  Imiidr'd  an'  fo'ty  doUa's  an'  yo' 
jes'  take  'em  to  Marse  Gaston  and  tell  'im  ole  Pete 
wishes  it  wa'  mo'." 

"As  Mr.  Lesage  had  about  thirty-five  thousand 
dollars  invested  in  the  instrument,"  I  replied,  "he  will 
think  your  offer  a  munificent  one  indeed  !" 

"I  know  it's  nuf'n'  at  all  to  Marse  Gaston,"  Pete 
responded,  "but  it's  a  miglity  big  pile  er  money  to 
me,  an'  Marse  Gaston  knows  I'd  give  him  mo'  ef 
I  had  it." 

"Well,"  I  answered,  "you  must  go  and  see  Mr.  Le- 
sage yourself,  and  if  you  can  convince  him  that  your 
few  dollars  will  repay  the  loss  he  has  suffered  through 
you,  perhaps  he  will  not  have  us  hang  you  after  all." 

"Oh,  I  know  Marse  Gaston's  not  gwine  to  hurt  ole 
Pete.  It's  wus'n  dat.  He'll  jes'  say,  '  I  no  mo'  use  fo' 
yo',  nigger,  an'  I  can  jes'  clar  out  an'  git.  Dat's 
what'll  killdis  yer  chile,  but  I  knows  dat's  jes' what't'U 
come  to, an'  I  can't  blame  Marse  Gaston  nohow." 

When  we  arrived  at  the  house  we  went  directly  to 
Mr.  Lesage's  room.  He  was  sitting  in  a  large  easy- 
chair  talking  with  the  boys,  who  had  assembled  to  see 
Pete  get  his  just  deserts.  Pete,  without  saying  a 
word,  or  even  looking  at  his  employer,  sat  down  in  a 
chair  near  the  door. 

"I  have  sent  for  you,  Pete,"  said  Mr.  Lesage,  in  a 
voice  the  gentleness  of  which  surprised  and  disap- 
pointed us,  "to  thank  you  for  the  kindly  interest  you 
have  taken  in  my  eternal  welfare.  I  am  pained  and 
distressed,  not  at  the  loss  of  the  instrument,  but  at 


138  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

the  loss  of  the  respect  and  confidence  of  the  people  of 
another  world;  still  1  have  not  been  angry  at  you, 
old  friend."  Pete  for  the  first  time  looked  up,  more 
surprised  than  any  of  us.  "  On  the  contrary,"  contin- 
ued Mr.  Lesage,  I  appreciate  the  moral  courage  you 
have  shown  in  your  concern  for  another.  Probably 
none  of  us,  with  the  same  fear  of  that  instrument,  and 
believing  in  its  direct  connection  with  the  Evil  One, 
would  have  had  the  courage  to  face  it  as  you  did  in 
behalf  of  one  we  loved.  I  wonder  how  you  accom- 
plished itjforyou  must  have  been  terribly  frightened." 

"I  war  scared  pow'ful  bad,"  broke  in  Pete,  *' an' 
my  knees  jes'  shook  an'  knocked  togedder  so  hard 
dat  dey  mighty  so'  yit,"  and  he  began  to  rub  the  sub- 
jects of  his  exaggeration;  "but  I  'membered  what  de 
good  book  says  about  facin'  de  debil  an'  I  jes'  walked 
up  to  'im  quick  and  tole  'im  as  how  he'd  got  to  let 
you  alone.  But  I  swa'  to  grashus,  Marse  Gaston,  I 
neber  know'd  ole  Satan  gwine  to  get  his  back  up  like 
dat  and  bust  tings  all  to  flinders,  an'  nearly  knock  the 
life  out'n  all  of  us  besides." 

''Don't  make  any  excuses,  Pete,"  Mr.  Lesage  an- 
swered. ''  We  have  learned  wonderful  things  of  him 
whom  you  mistake  to  be  Satan ;  and  even  if  you  had 
not  had  such  good  intentions  we  could  but  forgive 
you ;  for  one  of  the  things  we  have  learned  is  that  we 
must  all  be  you,  in  time,  and  then  we  shall  appreciate 
your  motives,  and  know  how  pleasant  it  will  be  to  be 
held  blameless.  So,  old  friend,  be  entirely  at  ease  and 
try  to  realize  that  I  have  greater  affection  for  you 
than  ever." 


THE  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  189 

"Does  you  really  mean  it  for  slio',  Marse  Gaston, 
an'  ain't  Pete  got  to  go  arter  all?"  Pete  asked  in  as- 
tonishment and  doubt. 

«-Mr.  Lesage  again  assured  him  of  the  fact,  stating 
that  he  had  been  taught  the  best  of  all  motives  for 
doing  unto  others  as  he  wished  to  be  done  by. 

"Well  den/'  Pete  answered,  as  he  affectionately 
took  one  of  the  hands  he  had  so  tirelessly  chafed  the 
day  before,  "dar  was  jes'  no  debil  about  it  at  all.  If 
dat's  what  yo'  been  taut  it's  de  good  Lawd  an'  not 
Satan  what  yo'  been  telegraph'n' to,  an' ole  Pete's  been 
a  big  fool.  Wonder  he  didn't  smash  me  erlong  wid 
de  roryfone  for  callin'  'im  de  ole  debil." 

Mr.  Lesage  explained  to  Pete  that  he  was  only  fol- 
lowing the  general  rule  in  being  frightened  into  think- 
ing that  a  most  beneficent  discovery  of  science  was 
the  work  of  the  devil.  Mr.  Lesage's  conduct  had  been 
a  timely  and  gentle  reprimand  to  the  rest  of  us.  We 
now  began  to  realize  the  full  import  of  the  teachings 
we  had  been  receiving  from  Saturn.  Would  I,  indeed, 
in  some  future  age  be  Pete?  Would  the  I,  or  Ego, 
which  now  receives  its  impressions  through  a  white 
skin,  blue  eyes,  and  Caucasian  brain,  in  some  distant 
cycle  be  incorporated  in  that  dusky  form,  knowing  as 
its  own  sensations  all  of  Pete's  impressions?  It 
seemed  impossible.  Pete,  too,  had  been  thinking 
about  this  matter,  for  suddenly  he  broke  out  into  a 
guffaw  as  only  a  darkey  can,  possessed  with  a  funny 
idea. 

"Marse  Gaston,"  ho  asked  between  his  explosions, 
"  what's  dat  3^ou  said  about  being  ole  black  Pete?   I's 


140  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

gwine  to  belebe  ebery  ting  yo'  tells  me  now.  but  dat's 
a  pow'ful  uncom'n  idee.    Haw!  haw!    haw!" 

Mr.  Lesage,  who  was  already  a  convert  to  the 
strange  theon^,  assumed  the  responsibility  of  assuring 
Pete  that  he,  Mr.  Lesage,  would  become  Pete  in  the 
course  of  time.  He  talked  to  the  colored  man  in  a 
very  earnest  and  impressive  manner,  but  Pete,  to 
whom  the  idea  grew  funnier  the  better  he  understood 
it,  only  responded  with  renewed  guffaws,  ending  in  a 
prolonged  yell  when  his  ordinary  means  of  express- 
ing his  mirth  failed  him.  When  Pete's  risibility  had 
expended  itself,  Mr.  Lesage  improved  the  occasion  to 
impress  upon  him  the  further  fact  that  he,  Pete,  must 
become  Mr.  Lesage.  His  earnestness  left  no  room  for 
doubt  in  Pete's  mind ;  but  this  idea,  rather  strangely, 
did  not  appeal  to  the  comic  side  of  his  nature.  But 
again  he  questioned,  more  to  be  confirmed  than  to  ex- 
press doubt:  ''Marse  Gaston,  yo'  say  I'm  gwine  to 
beyo'?" 

"Yes." 

*'  An'  gwine  to  be  white  an'  know  how  to  read  and 
write,  an'  all  yo'  knows  yo'se'f  ?  There  was  a  ring  of 
hope  in  his  voice,  and  eyes  and  face  expressed  deep 
awe  at  this  strange  fact.  It  was  the  reawakening  of 
hopes  and  desires  which  for  generations  had  been 
smothered  out  at  their  very  birth — the  hope  and  de- 
sire to  be  otherwise  than  one  of  an  inferior  race,  the 
longing  to  overstep  the  chasm  that  nature  seemed  to 
have  fixed  between  them  and  the  race  that  enjoyed  all 
the  superior  advantages  of  life.  Pete's  sparkling  eyes 
and  glowing  face,  as  Mr.  Lesage  again  assured  him  of 


THE  DUMMIES'   REVOLT.  141 

his  final  transformation,  were  a  study.  Looking  at 
Pete,  there  thrilled  through  me  the  conviction  that  the 
strange  theory  did  express  God's  own  eternal  justice. 

Later  in  the  day  Mr.  Lesage  told  us  of  his  intention 
to  set  up  his  other  instrument  on  the  site  of  the  one 
destroyed,  and  pass  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  wait- 
ing for  a  renewal  of  our  suddenly  interrui)ted  commu- 
nications with  Saturn.  To  our  minds  the  prompt  and 
terrific  manner  of  expressing  their  displeasure  seemed 
to  indicate  that  a  very  long  period  of  silence  would  be 
maintained  by  the  people  of  Saturn;  but  Mr.  Ijesage 
thought,  or  at  least  hoped,  that  but  a  few  years 
would  elapse  before  we  should  hear  from  them  again. 

The  second  day  following  the  calamity,  we  bid  fare- 
well to  our  kind  friends  of  the  "retreat,"  and  in  due 
time  reached  the  hunter's  ranch  where  we  had  left  our 
teams. 

"  Sim  "had  returned,  and  our  talk  as  we  approached 
the  house  brought  him  to  the  door,  and  from  thence 
to  the  yard  to  meet  us.  One  of  his  arms  was  in  a 
sling  and  the  hand  of  the  other  was  bandaged.  A 
cloth  was  wound  around  his  head,  and  another  passed 
under  his  chin  and  was  knotted  on  top  of  his  head. 
His  face  was  nearly  obscured  with  plasters,  but  such 
portions  as  peeped  out  fairly  beamed  with  "'  peace  and 
quiet."  He  greeted  us  with  his  characteristic  ab- 
ruptness: 

*'I  foimd  the  bar — biggest  one,  sure  'nough,  ever 
killed  in  these  yer  parts.  Thort  he'd  everlastingly 
chaw  me  into  mince  meat,  but  I  guess  I  made  'em  sick 
at  ther  stumick.     I'm  getting  on  all  right.    Nothing 


142  THE  AURORAPHONE.  • 

like  a  good  mother-in-law  to  pull  a  feller  through  after 
a  tussle  with  a  bar.  Mammy's  cooking  up  some  of 
the  best  bits,  and  you  must  stay  to  dinner.  Come 
right  in  and  see  the  kid,  and  git  acquainted." 

The  invitation  of  seven  hungry  boys  to  dinner 
spoke  volumes  for  his  hospitality,  and,  as  there  was 
no  refusing  him,  we  "staid  to  dinner."  The  "kid,"  a 
tiny  bit  of  humanity,  was  passed  around  and  intro- 
duced as  Nellie  Pardee.  By  the  time  this  formality 
was  through  w^th,  dinner  was  announced,  and  with 
the  aid  of  five  boxes  we  were  all  seated  at  the  long 
rough  table  that  had  been  placed  in  the  center  of  the 
one  room.  The  table  was  spread  with  a  cloth  the  like 
of  which  I  had  never  seen  before.  It  was  made  of  gunny- 
sacks  which  had  been  sewed  together,  washed  and 
bleached  to  a  show  of  whiteness.  By  this  1  identified 
the  material  of  Rose's  single  garment,  and  of  Bub's 
shirt  and  trowsers.  The  meal  was  very  frugal,  bear's 
meat,  gravy,  corn  bread,  and  water.  It  was  poverty, 
far  out  of  proportion  to  the  hunter's  strength  and 
the  possibilities  of  the  splendid  ranch  he  owned,  but 
had  not  developed.  Again  I  found  myself  thinking 
about  the  transmigration  of  souls.  I  wondered  if  I 
should,  some  time  in  the  future,  be  the  lazy,  good  na- 
tured,  thriftless  and  yet  courageous  hunter.  The 
prospect  was  not  a  pleasant  one  to  contemplate,  even 
though  my  advantages  were  not  strikingly  different 
from  Mr.  Pardee's.  And  here  there  seemed  to  be  a  de- 
fect in  the  Creetan  theory  of  soul-transformation. 
When  contemplating  those  more  fortunately  situated, 
or  even  in  contemplating  the  hope  it  awakened  in 


THE  DUMMIES'  REVOLT.  143 

those  less  fortunately  situated,  as  in  Pete's  case,  it 
was  easy  to  believe  the  theory.   But  when  I  was  called 
on  to  entertain  the  belief  that  I  must  become  the  per- 
sonality of  all  lower  forms  of  existence,  it  seemed  to  be 
carrying  the  principle  of  democracy  rather  too  far. 
And  yet  why  did  I  shrink   from  this  phase  of  the 
theory?   My  conscience  would  answer  that  ni}^  antipa- 
thy was  but  the  hostility  of  the  natural  man  — the 
selfish  part  of  my  nature,  to  divine  justice.    Why  all 
these  lower  forms  of  existence— forms  of  ignorance, 
crime,  and  suffering— unless  they  served  some  benefi- 
cent end  in  the  economy  of  the  universe?    If  they  were 
the  price  of  the  higher  forms  of  existence,  intelligence, 
pleasure,  morality,  why  should  not  I  pay  the  price,  in- 
stead ot  enjoying  the  blessings  that  others  have  pur- 
chased?   Surely  God  had  legislated  in  my  favor.    By 
some  divine  decree  I  was  better  than agreat  portion  of 
my  fellow  creatures.    It  was  the  pleasanter  thought, 
and  I  hugged  it  close  to  my  bosom.  Again,  so  far  from 
tending  to  morality,  would  not  tlie  theory  work  a  con- 
trary result?    Once  satisfied  that  some  distant  cycle 
would  bring  us  to  a  more  desirable  tabernacle,  and  to 
more  pleasant  conditions,  would  we  not  be  inclined  to 
yield  ourselves  to  fate  and  let  matters  take  their  natural 
course  with  the  least  possible  help  or  hindrance  from 
our  hands?    But  if  I  accepted  the  theory,  by  the  same 
process  of  reasoning,  just  used,  it  would  follow  that  I 
should  sit  down  and  no  longer  be  moved  hj  hunger 
or  cold  to  activity.    No,  I  could  noli  reject  the  theory 
on  that  ground.    Were  I  to  accept  the  theory,  all 
my  incentives  to  acticm  would  still  remain.    I  was 


144  THE  A!  no  RAP  HOSE. 

already  rep:arding  these  ])0()r  people  with  deeper  inter- 
est just  from  hiiviiiii'  lioard  of  the  theory,  and,  no 
doubt, all  tlirou^h  life,  every  instance  of  wretchedness, 
misery  and  crime  tliat  should  come  under  my 
notice  would  excite  a  kindlier  feeling*  in  me  for  suffer- 
ing- humanity.  But  granting- tliis — that  the  thought 
of  being  in  the  sufferer's  place  does  awaken  a  keener 
sympathy  for  my  fellow-creatures, — was  it  not  likely  to 
lower  the  standard  of  morality?  "Wrong  doing  was 
})erliaps  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  distress,  and  it 
would  be  better  to  have  some  theory  to  harden  my 
heart  against  the  sight  of  misery.  M^^  reason  said, 
Let  them  starve  and  freeze  and  steal  and  kill,  but  look 
carefully  to  your  own  moral  welfare,  and  you  will 
have  done  j^our  duty.  There  was  no  great  degree  of 
satisfaction  following  this  conclusion,  but  that  would 
come  when  the  novelty  of  the  theory  had  w^orn  off. 

Occupied  w^ith  these  thoughts  I  lost  nearly  all  of 
the  talk  during  the  meal.  We  managed  to  pay  the 
family  for  our  dinners  and  for  the  care  of  our  teams. 
Bui)  was  made  the  recipient  of  five  bright  silver  dol- 
lars. We  drove  up  to  Wagon  Wheel  Gap  that  after- 
noon, and  with  concentrating  all  our  care  on  our 
health  for  a,  few  weeks,  we  tli ought  less  of  the  events 
of  the  past  few  days  than  we  otherwise  should.  Still 
it  was  an  every-day  occurrence  during  our  sta}-  there 
and  on  our  way  l)ack  to  Colorado  Springs,  to  wonder 
how  the  dummies'  revolt  would  be  suppressed  by  the 
good  people  of  Saturn. 


BOOK  II. 

TEN  YEARS  LATER. 


CHAPTER  VT. 

PLEASANT  REUNIONS. 

Ten  years  have  passed  away  since  I  parted  with 
my  six  friends  at  Colorado  Springs — years  that  have 
brought  to  me  many  sorrows  and  cares.  1889  found 
me  living  in  one  of  the  ''boom"  smitten  cities  of 
Western  Kansas,  ostensibly  in  the  mercantile  trade 
but  virtually  waiting  for  the  country  to  recover  from 
the  great  collapse  of  '87.  In  the  spring  of  the  latter 
year  the  great  gambling  epidemic  raged  in  our  midst, 
and  by  many  of  us  legitimate  business  was  deemed 
too  slow^,  and  left  to  take  care  of  itself,  while  every 
available  dollar  was  invested  in  real  estate  —  real  es- 
tate that  in  a  few  weeks  was  to  realize  us  a  handsome 
fortune,  but  which  instead  could  not  be  disposed  of 
at  any  price. 

One  sultry  afternoon  in  July,  '89,  I  was  busily  en- 
gaged in  my  store, —  on  a  gloomy  retrospection;  so 
absorbed,  in  fact,  was  I  with  tlie  dismal  phantoms, 
that  I  was  but  vaguely  conscious  of  the  shadow  which 
had  darkened  the  doorway.  Some  transactions  of  the 
past  two  years,  I  was  thinking,  were  possibly  not  so 
great  mistakes  ns  otliers.  I  was  confronted,  however, 
with  vnrious  shades  of  wrong  judgment  and  misman- 
agement, all  of  an  unmistakable  indigo  tint.  The  pic- 
ture in  my  mind  would  have  been  termed  by  artists  a 

147 


148  Till-:  M'noRAj'noxi:. 

discord  in  blue.  To  my  mind  it  was  a  distressing  fit 
of  the  blues.  Just  as  the  sombre-hued  thoughts  were 
about  to  express  themselves  in  an  agonizing  groan,  a 
voice  from  the  doorway'  yelled,  "  Git !  "  and  the  haunt- 
ing spectres  were  put  to  flight  as  precipitately  as  had 
been  the  supposed  horse  thieves  ten  years  before,  by 
the  eloquence  of  that  voice.  It  was  my  cousin  Mel, 
hale,  hearty  and  jolly,  an  M.D.  now  of  several  years' 
practice.  He  had  started  in  on  an  already  thinly  pop- 
ulated community'  and  had,  of  course,  by  this  time  to 
look  up  a  new  location.  He  had  found  the  place  in 
the  central  part  of  the  Sunflower  State,  and  had  run 
out  to  make  me  a  visit  before  settling  down  to  prac- 
tice in  his  new  field.  Mel  was  a  bachelor,  thirty-one 
years  old,  strong,  prosperous  and  happy.  I  was  a 
bachelor,  thirty  years  old,  in  poor  health,  bankrupt 
and  gloomy.  The  cheerful  companionship  of  my 
cousin  was  a  boon  to  me  just  at  that  time,  and  fortu- 
nately it  was  continued  beyond  our  expectations. 

By  a  coincidence,  not  strange  to  those  who  regard 
all  things  as  directed  by  law,  the  first  mail  from  the 
west  after  Mel's  arrival  brought  the  following  letter 
to  me. 

Mountain  Retreat,  Colo.,  July  18-89. 
Mr.  S.  I.  Karbun. 

Doar  Sir  and  Friend:  Yon  will  bo  glad  to  know  that  my 
patient  waiting  has  at  last  been  rewarded.  A  message 
came  yesterday  from  Saturn.  It  apjH'ars  that  our  fi-iend 
Mr.  Bozar  has  disappeared,  presumably  killed  by  the  dum- 
mies during  the  great  n'volt  ten  years  ago.  The  Sjiturnians 
have  only  lately  found  a  reeord  of  a  "communication  with 
the  people  of  Opak  "  and  nothing  to  show ''  the  status  of  it." 
The  message  I  received  also  states  that  they  will  make  a 
more  thorough  search  among  the  public  records,  for  further 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  149 

particulars,  and  also  make  cai-efnl  inquiries  concerning  Mr. 
Bozar.  Failing  to  find  anything*  nioi-e  in  regard  to  the 
matter,  they  ])ro])o.se  to  renew  the  correspondence  where  it 
was  broken  off,  as  i)er  tiieir  record,  which  brings  their  history 
up  to  the  second  day  of  the  revolt.  1  am  to  hear  from  them 
in  twelve  days  at  all  events. 

1  am  confident  that  we  shall  resume  friendly  relations 
with  the  distaiil;  ])lanet,  and  as  we  shall  now  Ix^  in  constant 
communicatioii  wit  li  its  citizens  we  may  make  known  to  the 
world  the  things  we  have  heard.  Without  this  substantial 
proof  we  could  not  hope  to  make  the  most  credulous  believe 
the  facts.  But  soon  all  may  come,  and  see  and  hear  for 
themselves.  You  and  your  friends  will  want  to  visit  these 
beautiful  mountains  again,  and  once  more  enjoy  one  an- 
other's companionship;  and  as  the  occasion  is  one  of  such 
unusual  interest,  T  am  very  hopeful  of  seeing  you  all  here  in 
a  few  days.  I  write  to  the  oth(^rs  by  this  mail.  8team  will 
now  bring  you  to  this  region,  though  not,  perhaps,  so  pleas- 
antly as  you  on(;e  made  the  trij).  Our  own  road  up  the 
mountain  has  been  somewhat  im])roved,  and  Pete  himself 
shall  be  in  waiting  at  th(?  station  to  drive  you  to  my  "re- 
treat." 

Trusting  to  see  you  soon,  I  am  your  sincere  friend, 

Gaston  Lesage. 

We  received  the  letter  on  the  morhing  of  the  19th, 
and  we  boarded  the  west  bound  train  at  4  p.m.  the 
following  day,  and  were  borne  from  the  hot,  dusty 
Kansas  town  toward  the  cool  smiling  mountains  of 
Colorado.  A  pleasant  surprise  awaited  us  at  Pueblo 
in  the  person  of  Jim.  Mr.  Lesage,  after  writing,  had 
immediately  concluded  to  send  telegrams  to  those 
who  were  the  farthest  away ;  consequently  Jim  had  the 
word  and  was  en  route  over  the  ''  Missouri  Pacific"  be- 
fore I  got  my  letter.  Hundreds  of  operators  are  still 
wondering  at  those  six  queer  messages  that  wen*b  flash- 
ing through  their  offices,  the  substance  of  which  was 
as  follows:   "  Saturn  heard  from.   Come  immediately.  " 

We  arrived  at  L.,  the  station  nearest  Mr.  Lesa";e's 


150  THE  AURORAPHOXE. 

home,  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  of  the  21st.  Our 
great  promptness  had  not  been  expected,  and  we 
were  sorely  disappointed  in  not  finding  Pete  at  the 
station  to  receive  us.  While  the  little  mountain  depot 
was  strange  to  us,  yet  we  recognized  many  famihar 
landmarks,  and  soon  discovered  that  we  were  near 
the  site  of  our  old  camping  ground.  It  was  now 
about  three  o'clock,  and  not  expecting  Pete  before 
night,  wo  concluded  to  make  a  call  on  onr  hunter 
friend,  taking  it  for  granted  that  he  still  resided  at  the 
old  ranch,  wliich  was  a  mile  distant  from  the  station. 
The  walk  was  a  pleasure,  but  we  found  the  ranch  so 
wonderfully  improved  that  we  concluded  that  its 
thriftless  owner  of  ten  years  before  had  sold  out  and 
moved  to  a  wilder  region.  A  large,  handsome,  frame 
building  stood  on  the  site  of  the  old  log  house,  and  the 
grounds  were  beautiful  with  greensward,  fiowers  and 
shrubs.  A  broad  veranda  on  the  front  and  east  side 
of  the  house  gave  a  comfortable  and  home-like 
appearance  to  the  otherwise  modern  and  stylish 
dwelling.  Tli<»  veranda  had  two  occupants,  a  3"oung 
lady  and  a  little  girl,  the  latter  occupying  a  hammock, 
whi(,-h  the  young  lad^^  was  swinging  vigorously,  the 
child  attesting  its  appreciation  by  merry  peals  of 
laughter.  As  we  wei'c  somewhat  thirsty  we  concluded 
to  get  a  drink  from  the  old  s])ring,  which  we  saw  had 
been  covered  with  a  picturesque  spring-house,  and  also 
make  fiome  inquiries  concerning  the  former  owner  of 
the  place.  In  answer  to  oui'  i-ecpiest  for  a  drink  the 
young  lady  brought  us  a  glass  and  directed  us  to  the 
spring  at  the  i-c.-ir  of  the  house.    As  we  turned  the 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  151 

corner  of  the  house  on  our  way  to  the  spring  we  were 
met  by  a  well  dressed  gentleman,  who  stopped  short 
and  contemplated  us  for  a  moment,  as  we  did  him. 

"Wall  I  swar!"  exclaimed  the  gentleman,  ''if  'tain't 
the  youngsters  'twer  here  when  I  killed  the  big  bar; 
bless  my  soul  if  'tain't!"  and  he  shook  hands  all  around 
two  times,  as  if  the  coincidence  of  our  having  been 
there  when  he  killed  the  "  big  bar"  was  the  strongest 
of  all  human  ties.    ''War  on  a  bar  hunt,"  he  lost  no 
time  in  saying,  "  over  in  the  San  Juan  country  a  year 
or  so  after  you  were  here  and  found  a  silver  mine,— I 
did,  by  gracious!    It  panned  out  immense;  leastwise 
'twas  for  me.    I  fixed  up  the  old  place  till  I  think  it's 
just  scrumptious.    I've  edicated  the  children,  and  Rose 
and  Bub  ain't  got  no  ekals  inlarnin' ;  no,  sir,  not  any- 
whar  on  the  face  of  the  yarth.    Got  a  pianer,  too,  and 
you  Just  bet  Rose  can  everlastingly  thump  it.    It  war 
wuss'n  a  mammy-in-law  at  first,  and  I  war  justdrivto 
hunt  bar  day  and  night.    That  pianer's  been  a  regular 
holycust  to  the  bars  in  these  parts.    It  would  just  set 
me  after  them  a  ragin'  and  a  tarin',  and  Fd  kill  three 
or  four  'fore  I'd  feel  any  peace  and  quiet  at  all.    But 
that's  all  over  now  and  when  Rose's  to  home  I  just 
keep  her  playin'  poorty  and  soft  like  and  no  bar  big  or 
little  can  entice  me  away  from  home  now." 

This  was  a  long  talk  for  the  hunter,  but  it  was 
all  told,  and  beyond  inviting  us  in  to  hear  Rose  play 
we  heard  but  little  more  from  him.  He  insisted  on 
our  staying  with  his  'folks'  until  Pete  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance. It  was  the  same  irresistible  appeal  that 
had  led  us  to  take  dinner  with  them  in  the  days  of 


152  THE  Al'llOUAl'IluyE. 

their  extreme  poverty,  and  wo  consented  to  stay,  per- 
haps for  a  week,  with  far  less  reluctance  than  we  had 
assented  to  partake  of  that  one  humble  meal. 

The  first  thin<^  was  to  hear  Rose  play,  and  we 
followed  our  host  into  the  luxuriously  and  tastefully 
furnished  pai'lor.  A  grand  piano  stood  open  across 
one  corner  of  the  room.  Rose,  to  whom  we  had  been 
introduced  in  a  lump  as  the  "very  identical  yongsters 
that  were  here  when  1  killed  the  big  bar,"  consented  to 
play,  not,  it  was  evident,  to  satisfy  our  doubting 
curiosity,  but  to  please  her  father,  of  whom  she  was 
both  fond  and  proud.  She  had  a  sweet,  clear  voice 
which  had  been  well  cultivated,  and  she  played  with 
a  touch  and  expression  that  no  amount  of  practice 
could  have  mastered  without  great  natural  aptitude 
for  music.  For  an  hour  tliose  tireless,  flexible  lingers 
flew  up  and  down  the  keyboard,  filling  the  room  with 
such  harmonies  as  only  the  perfect  master  of  the 
piano  can  command.  It  was  a  striking  illustration 
of  the  power  of  wealth  to  bring  out  and  develop  one's 
natural  tastes  and  talents.  Rose's  small,  graceful 
figure  was  tastefully  arrayed  with  none  of  that  display 
of  finery  and  jewels  which  under  the  circumstances 
might  have  been  expected.  Still  her  dress  was  a 
decided  contrast  to  the  coarse  garment  she  had  worn 
when  we  first  saw  her.  But  the  great  transformation 
had  been  in  Ros(?  herself — the  change  from  the  wonder- 
ful beauty  of  the  child  to  that  more  wondrous  thing, 
the  beauty  of  a  pure,  sweet  woman. 

As  I  listened  to  the  music  and  looked  around  the 
richly  furnished  room,  1  could  but  think  of  the  time 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  15;} 

when  we  sat  around  the  gunny-sack -covered  table, 
with  boxes  for  chairs.    Then  I  had  thought  that  to  be 
in  the  hunter's  phice  made  the  theory  of  a  universal 
exchange  of  personalities  seem  a  very  harsh  one.    But 
then  there  was  extreme  poverty  and  illiteracy  com- 
bined.   There  was  illiteracy  still,  but  in  this  womanly, 
accomplished  daughter,  who,  it  was  evident,  was  not 
a  bit  ashamed  of  her  parents,  there  was  compensation 
for  a  far  greater  misfortune  than  the  mere  want  of 
learning.      The   theory,    to    which  I  was  already  a 
professed  convert,  rose  in  my  estimation  as  I  noticed 
the  father's  look  of  pride  and  affection.    Before.  I  had 
not  hesitated  to  pronounce  this  man  thriftless  and 
lazy  from  the  general  appearance  of  neglect  and  dilapi- 
dation that  the  ranch  showed,  nor  had  I  endeavored 
to  find  any  excuse  for  him.    But  now,  the  fact  that  in 
his  chosen  work  none  were  more  tireless,  crafty  and 
persevering  than  he,  seemed  a  great  deal  in  his  favor. 
He   simply  liked  to  hunt  as  other  men,  noted  for 
industry,  liked    the   avocations   which,    fortunately, 
yielded  a  living,  respectability  and  influence.      His 
mdustry  had  been  rewarded  at  last,  and  his  good 

fortune  no  more  the  result  of  accident,  perhaps,  than 
that  of  others. 

Mrs.  Pardee,  who  had  returned  from  a  visit  to  one 
of  the  neighbors,  came  into  the  room  just  as  Rose 
ceased  playing,  and  we  were  forthwith  introduced  for 
the  second  time  as  the  youngsters  who  were  in  that 
vicinity  on  the  memorable  occasion  of  the  demise  of 
the  huge  bear.      » 

''Why,  ril  declare  if  'tain't  some  of   the  young 


154  TlIK  AJllOKAPnONE. 

geutlenien  'twere  here  when  Nellie  was  born,"  was  the 
mother's  means  of  identifying  us,  and  she  greeted  us 
with  a  friendly  fervor  that  left  no  doubt  in  our  minds 
that  between  Nellie  and  the  big  bear  we  had  a  claim 
on  this  family's  affections  that  ranked  next  to  kin. 
<' Nellie's  at  school,"*  continued  Mrs.  Pardee,  "or  on 
the  way  home'' — she  corrected  herself  looking  at  an 
elegant  bronze  clock  on  the  mantel,— and  it  will  just  do 
3'ou  good  to  see  Nellie!  But  guess  who's  teaching  our 
school, — it's  Bub;  tho'  pap  and  me's  trying  to  learn  to 
call  liini  Eobert,  as  that's  his  name.  He  says  Bub's 
good  'nuff  for  him,  and  what  we've  always  called  him 
we  can  still  call  him.  But  we  know  it  don't  sound 
right  and  he  a  grown  man,  and  before  company  we 
always  call  him  Robert  when  we  don't  forget  and  call 
him  Bub,  which  is  about  all  the  time,"  and  shelaughed 
heartil^^  at  the  pleasant  way  she  had  apologized 
beforehand  for  an  habitual  appellation  which  her 
mother's  heart  feared  might,  in  some  degree,  detract 
from  the  dignity  and  true  worth  of  her  first-born. 
May,  the  little  girl  we  had  first  seen  in  the  hammock, 
now  claimed  her  mother's  attention,  begging  permis- 
sion to  go  and  meet  ''Bub  and  Nell."  Her  request 
granted,  the  little  five-year-old  started  off  in  high  glee. 
We  were  sitting  on  the  veranda,  Mrs.  Pardee  doing 
most  of  the  talking,  though  Mr.  Pardee  had  just  ex- 
plained tliat ''  Bub  was  teaching  because  he  wasn't  go- 
ing to  have  him  grow  up  a  dude  just  because  he'd 
struck  it  rich,"  when  a  stalwart  young  man  with  little 
May  astride  his  neck,  and  Nellie,  ai»  it  proved  to  be, 
clinging  to  one  of  his  hands,  came  into  view.    Bub,  on 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  155 

catching  sight  of  visitors,  endeavored  to  dislodge  the 
child,  but  like  Sinbad's  Old  Man  of  the  Sea,  she  was  a 
fixture  not  to  be  removed.  Thus  the  trio  came  into 
the  porch  as  we  had  first  seen  them,  Bub  good-natur- 
edly confused.  The  mother,  however,  exaggerating 
the  indignity  of  his  situation,  made  haste  to  tear  the 
little  minx  from  her  perch.  May  screamed  with 
laughter  during  the  scufiie,  and  then  bawled  lustily  as 
she  had  to  yield  to  superior  force  and  was  borne  away 
by  the  victorious  though  deeply'  annoyed  mother. 
The  father  during  the  struggle  had  stood  nervously 
by,  impatient  for  a  chance  to  introduce  us  to  the  new 
comers  with  the  usual  reference  to  bruin.  Bub  had  al- 
ready recognized  us  and  was  through  shaking  hands 
by  the  time  his  father  had  finished  the  "big-bar" 
formula.  ''I  remember  you  very  distinctly,"  he  said, 
laughingl}^,  "as  I  date  life  from  the  time  you  gave  me 
the  five  dollars  for  taking  care  of  your  teams.  It  was 
the  first  money  I  had  ever  had,  and  father's  discovery 
of  the  silver  mine  a  year  later  was  nothing  in  compari- 
son with  that  magnificent  sum.'  And  after  all,  that 
five  dollars  was  the  foundation  of  our  good  fortune. 
I  hung  on  to  my  money  as  did  the  unprofitable 
servant  who  received  the  one  talent,  not  willing  to  Hsk 
any  investment  to  increase  it.  Then  father,  insisted 
on  borrowing  three  dollars  of  it  to  buy  sufficient  am- 
Qiunition  and  food  to  go  on  an  extensive  hunt  up  in 
the  San  Juan  country.  I  yielded,  not  to  moral  sua- 
sion but  to  parental  authority,  and  as  a  consequence 
father  found  the  mine." 

"  And  so,"  Mel  supplemented,  "  we  have  but  to  uay 


156  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

'well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,'  and  receive 
back  our  own,  with  a  hundred  thousand  or  so  for 
usury." 

"No,  that  hardly  follows,"  Bub  replied:  ''just  con- 
sider the  chances  1  took  and  you  will  concede  that 
your  demand  is  out  of  proportion  to  my  risks. 
Father  could  give  no  security,  and  if  he  hadn't 
made  the  find  he  would  never  have  paid  me  a  cent,  so 
I  should  have  been  in  a  worse  position  than  the  sloth- 
ful servant,  for  I  couldn't  have  returned  even  your 
own.  Fact  is,  though,  father  and  I  have  often  consid- 
ered your  claims.  I  contend  that  you  furnished  the 
'grub  stake'  and  have  an  interest  in  the  find.  Father 
won't  recognize  that  as  any  claim  at  all,  but  says  that 
your  interest  in  the  mine  is  based  solely  on  the  fact  that 
you  were  here  when  he  killed  that  big  bear,  and  he  ex- 
presses himself  as  willing  to  do  something  handsome 
by  you.  Of  course  I  can't  regard  that  as  entitling 
you  to  any  share  in  our  good  fortune,  and  until  we 
get  the  proper  ground  for  your  claims  settled  between 
us,  you  must  consider  your  cause  in  chancery,  and  be 
prepared  to  wait  indefinitely  for  its  final  adjustment. 

"It  seems,  then,"  Jim  said,  "that  mere  technicali- 
ties hinder  us  from  entering  into  the  immediate  pos- 
session of  our  share  in  a  silver  mine?  " 

"  No,  the  mine's  sold,"  answered  Mr.  Pardee,  "  and 
ther  money  is  invested  in  lands  and  houses  and  the  fix^- 
in's  you  see  round  here.  It's  the  improvements  on 
this  here  ranch  that  you  have  an  interest  in  as  much 
as  any  one,  and  ther's  nothin'  at  all  hinder'n'  your 
takin'    immegiat  possession   and  makin'  yourselves 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  157 

at  home  just  as  much  as  if  you  had  a  clar  title  and 
deed  to  the  whole  shebang." 

'<A11  right,"  Jim  answered,  "we'll  camp  with  you  a 
while,  anyway,  and  if  the  mountain  air  has  the  sam(> 
appetizing  effect  it  had  ten  years  ago,  trust  us  to  get 
more  than  our  share  of  the  proceeds  of  the  five-dollar 
investment." 

"There,"  Bub  exclaimed,  as  an  aroma  of  broiling 
meat  reached  us,  "mother  is  about  to  make  a  pay- 
ment of  interest  to  the  bondholders  in  this  concern, 
and  we'll  soon  have  you  clipping  your  coupons  with  a 
case  knife." 

And  so  the  Jesting  went  on  between  us.  It  was  very 
pleasant  to  converse  with  this  family,  who  laughingly 
referred  to  their  former  poverty,  and  spoke  of  their 
good  fortune  without  any  show  of  pride  or  patronage. 
Our  talk  was  continued  for  .some  minutes,  as  there  was 
the  usual  delay  with  the  supper  incident  to  "company," 
and  also  the  unusual  delay  which  attends  such  culinary 
preparations  when  the  company  is  on  the  verge  of 
starvation,  as  we  always  were  in  that  region.  Jim ,  who 
had  been  married  a  year  before,  had  repeatedly  declared 
that  day  that  he  had  not  had  anything  properly  cooked 
since  he  left  home,  and  was  constantly  drawing  com- 
parisons between  the  railroad  eating-houses  and  his 
own  establishment,  greatly  to  the  advantage  of  the 
latter.  Mel  and  I  could  admire  his  gallantry  in  prais- 
ing his  home  cooking,  but  we  had  assured  him  tliat  it 
was  utterly  impossible  for  a  wife  of  only  one  year's  ex- 
perience to  cook  anything  fit  to  eat.  We  would  get 
pretty  rough  usage  in  return  on  the  score  of   our 


158  THE  AiliORAI'IlUXE. 

celibacy,  and  were  rudely  awakened  to  a  sense  of  the 
crime  and  ignominy  of  bachelorhood.  However,  we 
could  sympathize  with  his  diatribes  against  the  rail- 
road hotel,  and  we  were  all  in  the  best  condition  to 
enjoy  good  old-fashioned  cooking,  such  as  vvas  already 
making  the  air  redolent  of  appetizing  odors. 

Supper  was  presently  announced,  and  it  even 
exceeded  our  expectations.  ''There  was  an  old-time 
flavor  and  relish  to  the  food,"  as  I  told  Mrs.  Pardee, 
''that  only  the  cooks  of  our  mothers'  day  could 
impart,"  which  seemed  to  please  the  good  woman 
amazingly.  Jim  even  conceded  that  Mrs.  Pardee's 
old  methods  of  cooking  were  superior  to  his  wife's, 
telling  her  in  his  honest,  sober  way  that  while  he  must 
yield  her  the  palm,  yet  slie  and  Allie  were  the  onl}^  two 
women  now  living  that  knew  how  to  cook— that 
understood  how  to  give  that  savoriness  to  food  which 
gained  our  mothers  such  merited  renown  in  the  culi- 
nary department  of  every  well  ordered  household. 
Our  praise  was  honest,  for  the  cooking  was  superb, 
"everything  prepared,"  as  Dr.  Mel  was  assuring  our 
hostess,  "  witli  a  view  to  the  requirements  of  digestion 
and  assimilation,  a  quality  of  food  rarely  met  with  in 
these  days  of  vile  cooking,  a  quality  to  which  no 
amount  of  lectures  and  hints,  from  the  profession 
which  I  have  the  honor  to  represent,  could  induce 
modern  cooks  to  give  any  attention.  This  istliemore 
strange,  that  the  cooks  of  the  old  school  acquired  the 
knack  by  intuition,  without  the  aids  that  modern 
progress  in  physiology  can  now  give.  'Tis  a  sad  fact, 
but  the  art  of  cooking  is  passing  away    with    our 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  159 

grandmothers,  and  an  army  of  dyspeptics  is  sure  to 
result,"  and  the  Doctor's  face  actually  grew  radiant 
at  this  picture  of  prospective  patients,  whereas,  to 
coincide  with  the  sad  tone  of  his  voice,  it  should  have 
been  extremely  sombre  and  sorrowful.  ''Yes,  Mrs. 
Pardee,"  he  continued,  "you  are  to  be  complimented  on 
your  skill  in  an  art  so  vitally  important  to  the  human 
race." 

"Why  lawsy  massy!"  responded  Mrs.  Pardee,  now 
that  she  had  time  to  make  her  acknowledgments, 
*'I  can't  cook  fit  for  hogs.  Rose  does  the  cooking. 
She's  been  off  to  one  of  them  industrious  schools  where 
they  learn  to  do  somethin'  as  well  as  to  know  some- 
thin',  and  what  Rose  don't  know  about  cookin'  ain't 
worth  learnin'." 

"There,  mother,"  said  Rose,  "our  guests  have 
already  said  enough  to  establish  the  reputation  of  our 
industrial  training  schools;  you  can't  make  it  any 
more  emphatic.  I  thank  you  all,"  she  said,  addressing 
us  three  crestfallen  mortals,  "for  the  honest  tribute 
you  have  paid  to  modern  methods  of  instruction.  1 
must  improve  my  vantage-ground,"  she  continued, 
"  and  take  you  to  task  for  being  behind  the  times  in 
not  knowing— for  to  know  is  to  appreciate  and  aid— 
the  good  work  that  is  being  done  by  industrial 
training  schools.  Domestic  economy,  of  course,  is  of 
minor  importance,  but  as  you  A^alue  it  so  highly  it  will 
be  the  best  criterion  for  you  to  judge  of  the  usefulness 
of  the  industrial  schools.  It  is  but  natural  that  I 
should  want  to  make  friends  for  the  system  to  which  I 
am  so  much  indebted,  and  1  hope  you  will  all  do 


160  THE  Ai'RORAPUOSE. 

penance  for  3'our  unkind  words  about  present-day 
cooking  by  preaching  to  all  your  friends  the  gospel  of 
labor  as  expounded  and  practiced  in  our  manual 
training  schools.'' 

In  truth  Ave  knew  but  little  about  industrial  train- 
ing as  a  factor  in  modern  education,  and  during  the 
meal  we  plied  our  fair  critic  with  queries  concerning  it, 
receiving  in  return  the  information  which  would 
qualif}^  us  for  the  mission  to  which  we  had  just  been 
called. 

After  supper,  Bub,  as  I  shall  continue  to  call  him, 
showed  us  over  the  place.  There  were  commodious 
barns  and  stables,  some  good  horses  and  a  number  of 
fine  Jersey  and  Holstein  cows. 

''We've  gone  into  the  dairy  business,"  Bub  said, 
"  or  rather  mother  has,  as  she  superintends  the  place. 
Father  devotes  the  most  of  his  time  to  hunting. 
However,  he  is  giving  it  up  now  that  Rose  is  at  home 
to  stay."  Although  he  spoke  lightly,  a  very  troubled 
look  came  over  his  face  as  he  mentioned  his  father, 
but  it  quickly  passed  away.  We  were  next  shown 
through  the  s})ring- house  and  initiated  into  the 
mysteries  of  cream  raising  by  means  of  a  creamer  and 
ice,  and  of  butter  making  by  the  use  of  the  most 
improved  machinery.  T\\  o  men  and  a  hired  girl  con- 
stituted Mrs.  Pardee's  help. 

On  returning  to  the  house,  we  found  the  family  out 
on  the  veranda  enjoying  tlio  cool  of  theevening.  Bose 
was  again  swinging  the  hammock,  May  being  the 
delighted  occupant,  while  Nellie  was  relating  some 
school   adventure   to   her   father   and   mother.    We 


PLEASANT  REUMONS.  161 

joined  the  group  and  became  busily  engaged  in  dis- 
cussing the  changes  of  the  past  ten  years.  Rose  had 
disappeared  into  the  house  soon  after  our  appearance, 
but  presently  returned  with  an  autogmph  album,  and 
announced  that  she  must  have  our  autographs.  I 
was  selected  for  the  first  contributor.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  this  abrupt  demand  for  autographs  savored 
very  much  of  rusticity,  and  I  felt  disappointed.  I 
8imi)ly  subscribed  my  name  and  passed  the  book  over 
to  Mel,  who,  seized  with  an  interrogo-philosophical 
spasm,  wrote:  "What  am  I,  whence  came  I,  and 
whither  am  I  bound?"  Jim,  remembering  the  Satur- 
nian  messages,  wrote  on  the  opposite  page:  *'An 
ultimate  atom,  from  the  Homogeneous  All,  and 
destined  for  all  time  to  describe  a  great  circle  through 
all  organic  matter  as  its  personality,  with  the  plane 
of  affection  inclined  to  some  like  personality."  He 
handed  me  the  album  to  read  his  pleasaiitry  at  the 
expense  of  a  theory  to  which  he  knew  I  had  become  a 
convert,  and  again  I  experienced  a  feeling  of  disap- 
pointment, this  time  in  Jim.  Still  his  representation 
was  true  to  the  theory  in  every  respect ;  and  then  as 
he  whispered,  "That  sizes  Mel  up  about  right,  don't 
it?"  I  perceived  that  his  joke  was  directed  at  my 
cousin,  on  the  supposition  that  he  had  become  deeply 
impressed  with  the  fair  Rose.  I  thought  it  hardly 
right  for  Jim  to  use  the  lady's  album  to  express  his 
opinion  on  such  a  matter,  but  his  meaning  was  so 
disguised  that  none  but  the  initiated  could  have 
guessed  it.  Mel  himself  supposed  it  to  be  merely  an 
answer  to  the  questions  he  had  written,  from   the 


162  THK  MnoilAPHOSi:. 

standpoint  of  the  theory  with  which  we  were  so  well 
acquainted,  and  he  so  explained  it  to  Rone,  which  of 
course  led  to  a  brief  statement  of  the  theory  itself,  no 
reference,  however,  being  made  to  the  origin  of  it. 

Rose  and  Bub  presently  witlidrew  to  the  farthest 
part  of  the  veranda  and  discussed  the  autographs 
with  the  air  of  having  made  a  discovery.  Again  Rose 
disappeared  into  tlie  house,  and  this  time  returned 
with  a  little  piece  of  cardboard.  This  the  two  care- 
fully compared  with  one  of  the  autographs.  Appar- 
ently^ satisfied  with  the  result.  Rose  suddenly  pointed 
her  finger  at  Mel,  and  exclaimed  with  a  mock  air  of 
severity :  ''  Thou  art  the  man !"  Mel  looked  extremely 
guilty — the  more  so  that  he  was  in  total  ignorance  of 
the  crime  with  which  he  was  charged.  He  proved  to 
be  the  culprit,  however.  It  appeared  that  on  arriving 
home  ten  ^^ears  before,  he  had  sent  Rose  a  gingham 
dress,  a  pair  of  shoes  and  two  pairs  of  stockings,  which 
little  act  of  anonymous  charity  he  had  entirely  for- 
gotten. Not  so  Rose,  however.  It  had  occurred 
to  her  that  some  of  us  had  sent  the  gift,  which,  like 
Bub's  five  dollars,  was  the  great  event  of  her  life,  and 
she  had  hit  on  the  autograph  scheme  to  detect  the 
donor.  She  had  preserved  the  cardboard  on  which 
her  name  was  written  in  Mel's  elegant  chirography, 
and  further  ornamented  with  a  rose  in  one  corner  and 
a  cute  little  bird  in  the  other,  because  it  was  the  nearest 
to  a  toy,  Christmas  card,  or  keep-sake  that  she  had 
ever  had. 

But  this  revelation  of  Mel's  generosity  was  a  third 
disappointment  to  me.    In  fact,  another  one   of  our 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  163 

party  had  fnlloii  a  victim  to  the  beauty  and  accora- 
plisliments  of  Rose,  JMy  disappointment  was  really  a 
twinge  of  jealousy.  I  re«:,retted  very  much  that  I  had 
not  sent  the  little  girl  something  on  my  return 
home  from  our  tirst  trip  to  these  mountains.  It 
was  a  great  deal  to  have  won  the  gratitude  of  this 
charming  young  woman,  as  Mel  had  done  by  a  little 
donation  where  it  was  so  sorely  needed.  I  even 
thought  of  his  gift  as  contemptibly  little,  and  was 
proceeding  to  ctMisure  him  UK^ntally  for  his  littleness, 
when  common  sense  clu^cked  me  with  the  thought  that 
I  had  not  sent  anything.  This  matter  troubled  me  in 
another  respect.  While  Mel  had  remained  true  to  the 
Methodistic  doctrines  which  had  been  taught  us  from 
infancy,  the  wonderful  revelations  made  by  our  Satur- 
nian  friend,  Mr.  Bozar,  had  made  me  a  convert  to  the 
strange  tlieory  of  permutation.  Mel  admitted  that 
the  communications  from  Saturn  were  very  remark- 
able, and  that  the  history  of  the  Saturnians  might  be 
valuable  and  interesting,  but  still  these  people  were 
fallible  creatures  like  ourselves,  and  for  his  part  he 
''would  be  in  no  haste  to  accept  their  wild  theories  as 
gospel  truths."  "But  they  are  not  wild  theories,"  I 
had  answered,  ''for  they  say  they  are  to  them  as  geo- 
metrical truths  are  to  us."  Mel,  however,  while  will- 
ing to  grant  their  truth  and  honesty  in  this,  held 
firmly  to  the  belief  that  further  discoveries  on  their 
part  would  explode  their  "certological  facts."  I  had 
replied  somewhat  testily  that  it  was  to  be  supposed 
that  we  should  ourselves,  by  and  by,  find  that  twice 
two  does  not  make  four,  and  so  be  compelled  to  admit 


164  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

that  all  our  mathematical  calculations  for  centuries 
past  are  nothing  but  fictions,  and  the  discoveries  of 
Newton  mere  coincidences.  1  liad  followed  up  this 
shot  by  pointinji:  out  the  fact,  "that  the  theory  would 
encourage  justice,  enlarge  our  sympathies  and  pro- 
mote charity  far  beyond  anything  that  Christianity 
had  done  in  this  direction."  That  was  what  was 
troubling  me  now.  I,  too,  had  had  m^^  sympathies 
aroused  by  the  extreme  poverty  of  this  family,  and  my 
generosity  appealed  to  by  their  dire  necessities,  but  I 
had  done  nothing  for  humanity's  sake,  while  Mel,  the 
Christian,  had.  It  seemed  a  practical  refutation  of  my 
argument.  I  could  not  explain  it  satisfactorily  to 
myself,  but  my  faith  in  the  theory  was  in  no  wise 
weakened. 

That  night  after  retiring  I  thought  long  and 
seriously  of  the  disadvantages  that  1  must  labor  un- 
der should  I  become  a  contestant  for  Rose's  love. 
Owing  to  my  extreme  diffidence  I  had  as  yet  passed 
scarcely  a  word  with  her,  and  I  was  conscious  that  as 
compared  with  Mel's  address  and  self-possession  this 
very  diffidence  w^ould  be  the  greatest  obstacle  to  my 
success.  Mel  also  had  the  advantage  of  me  in  per- 
sonal appearance.  Physically  he  was  greatly  my  su- 
perior, financially  even  more  so.  He  had  already 
won  renown  and  a  fair  competence  in  his  chosen  pro- 
fession, wiiile  I  at  that  very  moment  was  hopelessly 
stranded  —  wrecked  by  a  Kansas  boom,  and  the  groan 
which  Mel  had  checked  in  m^^  store  a  few^  days  before 
vented  itself  with  redoubled  foiH'e  from  its  long  sup- 
pression. My  cousin  came  hurrying  in  from  an  adjoin- 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  165 

ing  room  to  see  if  I  was  suffering  from  heart  disease 
or  an  epileptic  fit.  1  pleaded  the  nightmare  and  was 
left  to  my  dismal  reflections,  which  finally  culminated 
in  the  thou<>ht  that  my  case  was  altogether  hopeless. 
Having  promptly  decided  that  it  was  utterly  impossi- 
ble for  me  to  win  the  prize,  I  experienced  great  relief 
and  soon  forgot  my  disappointment  in  sleep. 

In  the  morning  I  awoke,  feeling  vaguely  conscious 
of  having  come  through  a  painful  ordeal,  but  it  was 
several  minutes  before  I  remembered  that  my  trouble 
was  a  disappointment  in  love.  I  laughed  at  it  now, 
but,  absurd  as  it  may  seem,  it  had  cost  me  a  sharp 
struggle  to  give  up  all  hope  of  winning  Rose  Pardee. 
For  the  remainder  of  our  stay  I  avoided  the  young 
lady  as  much  as  possible,  and  no  one,  I  was  sure,  even 
suspected  my  secret.  I  enjoyed  the  visit  notwith- 
standing that  I  must  daily  witness  the  progress  Mel 
was  making,  which  but  for  the  fact  that  I  had  com- 
pletely throttled  my  own  hopes  would  have  embit- 
tered these  days  beyond  endurance.  As  it  was  I  was 
beginning  to  look  forward  with  pleasure  to  gaining 
such  a  sweet  cousin  as  Rose.  Mel's  kindness  in  mak- 
ing tlie  little  gift  years  before,  and  her  appreciation 
and  grateful  remembrance  of  it,  did  more  to  ripen 
their  frienrlship  than  years  of  ordinary  acquaintance 
would  have  done. 

Pete  did  not  put  in  an  appearance  until  the  third 
day  after  our  arrival,  as  Mr.  Lesage  had  not  expected 
us  so  soon.  Pete  was  to  return  at  once  if  any  of 
us  had  arrived,  and  so  desired,  or  he  was  to  wait  for 
the  others,  just  as  we  preferred.      We  concluded  to 


166  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

wait,  and  two  da^'s  later  the  students  joined  lis. 
Pete  was  rather  cool  in  his  reception  of  the  new  ar- 
rivals, and  we  ourselves  had  fared  no  better,  as  he  had 
omitted  in  both  instances  the  hearty  handshake  we 
had  naturally  expected.  Otherwise  he  was  the  amia- 
ble old  darkey  he  had  ever  been. 

The  students,  or  rather  ministers,  wished  to  visit 
with  the  Pardef«  for  two  days  in  order  to  rest 
after  their  long  journey,  and  as  we  had  the  time 
to  spare  we  all  agreed  to  it.  Pete,  however,  had 
grown  homesick,  and  it  required  all  of  Mel's  persua- 
sive powers  to  prevail  on  him  to  grant  tlie  exten- 
sion of  time. 

Our  visit  altogether  was  a  most  pleasant  one. 
There  were  saddle-horses,  a  carriage  and  spring 
wagon,  with  good  roadsters  to  draw  them,  at  our 
service.  We  indulged  in  a  picnic  every  day  or  so, 
while  excursions  to  some  point  of  interest  were  an 
every-day  occurrence.  For  the  day  preceding  our  de- 
parture to  the  "  Mountain  Retreat"  Rose  had  planned 
a  picnic  in  which  many  of  the  neighboring  ranchmen's 
families  participated.  It  turned  out  to  be  a  visit  to 
the  Lovers'  Pool.  We  were  unaware  of  our  destina- 
tion until  we  found  ourselves  in  the  canon  which  we 
remembered  so  vvell  from  our  scare  over  Mel's  fall  into 
the  pool.  Rose  had  appointed  Bub,  who  had  taken  a 
holiday,  to  tell  the  sad  story  of  the  lovers  who  had 
drowned  themselves  in  the  dark  pool.  By  some 
chance  we  had  neviM-  iiK^ntioned  the  fact  that  we  were 
already  accpiainted  with  the  tragedy,  and  knew  a 
sequel  to  it  tliat  would  be  a  pleasant  sur^jrise  to  our 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  1G7 

mountaineer  friends,  when  they  heard  it.    When  Bub 
had  proceeded  far  enough  to  indicate  that  it  was  the 
story  of  Mose  and  Jennie  he  had  undertaken  to  relate, 
Mel  interrupted  him  and  told  the  more  interesting 
story  of  the  lovers'  escape.    The  discovery  that  Mose 
and  Jennie  were  in  all  probability  alive  created  a  per- 
fect tempest  of  excitement.   We  had  to  pilot  the  party 
to  the  crevice  and  thence  to  the  grotto  before  we  could 
convince  them  of  the  possibility  of  their  friends'  es- 
cape.   That  28th  day  of  July,  1889,  was  an  eventful 
one  to  the  mountaineers,  and  the  revelations  to  which 
it  gave  rise  formed  the  theme  of  an  amount  of  de- 
lightful talk  tluit  it  would  be  useless  to  try  to  esti- 
mate.   About  three  years  previous  to  that  time  the 
Andrews  ranch  had  begun  to  undergo  a  great  trans- 
formation.   The  place  was  a  fine  one  to  start  with, 
and  it  had  been  improved  and  beautified  in  numerous 
ways.    A  splendid  house  was  in  course  of  construction 
at  that  time,  and  yet  no  one  in  the  neighborhood 
knew  who  owned  the  place.    Our  friends  of  the  picnic 
at  once  surmised  that  Skein  had  bought  the  place, 
and  was  fixing  it  up  preparatory  to  making  it  his  per- 
manent residence.    The  fact  that  the  two  had  never 
made  their  whereabouts  known,  or  even  intimated 
that  they  Yf^re  alive,  could  only  be  accounted  for  on 
the  ground  that  they  supposed  that  all  their   old 
friends  had  mistrusted  Mose  wrongly,  and  hence  had 
determined  to  ignore  them  for  the  future.    We  re- 
turned home  late  in  the  afternoon,  after   what  we 
voted  the  most  enjoyable  day  of  the  season. 

The  next  morning  we  were  making  preparations  to 


108  THE  AURORA PFinXE. 

accompany  Pete  up  the  mountain.  Tt  was  arranged 
that  we  wen'  to  make  several  visits  t(j  the  Pardees 
during  our  two  months'  vacation.  That  Mel  was  the 
prime  mover  in  planning  the  visits  did  not  surprise 
us.  Preparatory  to  starting  we  all  refreshed  ourselves 
with  a  good  drink  from  the  spring.  While  the  others 
lingered  talking  with  Bub  and  filling  a  keg  with  spring 
water  to  be  taken  with  us,  I  walked  around  to  the 
front  of  the  house,  on  my  way  to  the  big  wagon,  which 
stood  about  one  hundred  yards  down  the  walk,  with 
Pete  in  the  driver's  seat  waiting  impatiently  for  us  to 
"  tumble  in."  To  my  consternation  Rose  joined  me  at 
the  veranda  steps  and  accompanied  me  to  the  gate,  just 
beyond  which  stood  the  wagon.  She  had  seized  the 
last  opportunity,  as  I  thought,  to  have  a  little  chat 
with  the  only  one  of  the  party  with  whom  she  had  not 
in  all  this  time  found  a  chance  to  converse,  the  result 
being  that  we  walked  to  the  gate  in  profound  silence. 
For  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  think  of  anything  to  say. 
Every  unsuccessful  attempt  to  think  of  something 
relevant  to  the  occasion  left  me  more  and  more  em- 
barrassed. At  the  gate  I  did  venture  to  look  at  her, 
only  to  be  plunged  into  deeper  confusion  by  the 
unmistakable  merriment  that  danced  in  her  sparkling 
black  eyes.  But  her  expression  changed  on  the  instant 
to  one  of  seriousness,  and  with  a  look  that  thrilled 
me  through  and  through  she  extended  lier  hand  to  bid 
me  good-bye,  saying  as  she  did  so,  '*  Yourbashfulness, 
if  3'ou  do  not  overcome  it,  will  lose  you  th(^  woman 
you  love,"  and  with  a  quick  pressure  of  the  hand  she 
was  gone,  leaving  mo  surprised  and  bewildered  beyond 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  ,  169 

measuiv.    Pete  broke  the  spell  by  sayino;:  ''Dat  Miss 
Hose's  a  pow'ful  fine  gul,  and,  Boss,  yo'  done  got  de 
inside  trak  or  dis chile dunnonnffenabont sentiments." 
I  answered  with  some  remark  about  the  weather,  and 
in  a  manner  tliat  cheeked-  his  thoughtless  speech.    I 
trusted  tliat  my  o-reat  reserve  would  imply  that  any 
further   familiarity    on    that   subject    would    not  be 
tolerated.    Not  for  the  world  would  I  have  had  him 
joke  me  about  Rose  when    the  others  were  present. 
Rose  regained  the  veranda  just  as  the  others  came 
around  from  the  spring.    She  stood  in  the  door-way 
and  waved  them  an  adieu  with  her  hand  as  they  filed 
down  the  walk.    On  seeing  this  Pete  turned  around, 
saying,  as   he   slapped    me   good    naturedly  on  the 
shoulder, ''  By  golly,  Boss,  ole  Pete's  right  all  de  same. 
She  didn't  'low  none  of  dem  other  fellers  a  chance  to 
squeeze  her  purty  hand.    It's  a  cold  day  when  dis 
nigger  gits  left  on  sentiments." 

"For  heaven's  sake,"  1  implored,  ''don't  say  any- 
thing about  this  when  the  boys  get  here." 

"Do  yo'  members,"  Pete  asked,  grinning,  ''when 
you  tried  to  sheer  me  an'  make  me  tink  Marse  Gaston 
gwine  to  hang  me?  Spects  dis  ole  coon  gwine  to  get 
eben  now." 

So  much  for  my  attempt  to  assume  a  cold  dignified 
manner  toward  Pete  when  he  first  quizzed  me.  ^  Pete, 
so  good  natured  and  obliging  usually,  had  succumbed 
to  tlie  sweets  of  revenge,  and  \  had  no  doubt  that  he 
would  torture  me  to  his  heart's  content.  Remem- 
bering that  Pete  had  also  become  a  convert  to  the 
theory  of  permutati(m  of  personality,  I  asked  him  to 


170  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

bear  in  mind  that  he  would  be  in  my  place  some  day, 
and  urged  that  he  ought  to  be  merciful. 

"Dat's  so,"  he  answered  witli  perfect  confidence, 
wliich  no  dou])t  was  born  of  his  great  faitli  in  liis 
eni])loyer  rather  than  of  his  rational  belief  in  the 
theory.  He  fell  into  a  sober  meditation,  which  lasted 
through  the  "tumbling  in''  process,  and  so  worked  on 
his  charity  that  he  spared  me  any  further  allusion  to 
the  episode  of  the  morning. 

I,  too,  soon  fell  into  serious  meditation,  wliile  Mel 
grew  actually  glum.  Was  Pete  mistaken  after  all? 
How  my  heart  bounded,  even  at  the  supposition  that 
he  was  not.  But  for  Pete's  positiveness  in  the  matter, 
my  diffidence  would  have  prevented  me,  even  at  that 
time,  from  construing  Rose's  overture  into  anything 
more  significant  than  friendship.  Not  that  I  trust(^d 
nuich  to  Pete's  knowledge  of  "sentiments,"  but  his 
assertions  encouraged  me  to  consider  Hose's  conduct 
more  carefully,  with  the  result  that  I  finally  decided 
that  she  must  have  fallen  in  love  with  me,  and  I  began 
to  analyze  the  process.  She  had  at  first,  no  doubt, 
been  piqued  at  my  total  indiflVrence  to  her  society, 
which  1  had  assumed  in  self-defense.  Tht'u  had  arisen 
the  desire,  very  faint  at  first, for  the  soiiety  which  was 
so  persistently  withheld,  the  desire  growing  as  mj' 
indifference  became  more  pronounced.  Absorbed  with 
the  novelty  of  not  being  sought  after,  Mel's  attentions 
had  failed  to  have  the  influence  that  l)y  nil  rights  they 
should  have  had.  I  was  the  object  of  her  interest,  and 
so  became  the  object  of  her  affection.  Later,  by  intui- 
tion, she  had  divined  my  secret,  but  had  attributed 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  171 

my  persistent  avoidance  of  her  to  my  bashfulness; 
then  with  tliat  frankness  characteristic  of  the  family 
she  had  intimated  in  an  nnmistakable  manner  that  I 
had  bnt  to  overcome  m}^  timidity  to  win  lier.  My 
dreams  up  to  this  point  had  been  ver}'  bri<2;ht,  but 
there  I  again  experienced  a  sense  of  disappointment 
in  Rose.  She  liad  undoubtedly  been  a  little  bold  in 
her  declaration  of  a  sentiment  which  1  had  in  no  wise 
encouraged,  however  I  might  have  desired  it.  I  found 
myself  questioning  the  womanliness  of  it,  and  inclined 
to  censure  her  for  a  want  of  maidenly  modesty.  Yes, 
there  was  something  that  artificial  culture  had  not 
been  able  to  give.  Not  many  days  previous  I  had 
read  of  an  accomplished  society  belle,  who  had  made 
slight  advances  towards  a  poor  lover  whose  pride 
would  not  allow  him  to  disclose  his  passion.  A  happy 
union  had  resulted,  and  I  had  admired  the  character 
of  the  lady  very  much,  had  even  wished  with  a  sigh  of 
regret  that  there  were  more  ladies  who  would  take 
the  initiative  in  these  matters.  And  now  that  my 
wish  was  granted  I  was  far  from  being  satisfied.  I 
accounted  for  my  admiration  for  the  society  belle 
from  the  fact  that  she  had  been  portrayed  as  a  highly 
accomplished  and  refined  lady.  But  wherein  had  Rose 
fallen  short  of  the  same  standard  of  culture?  I  had 
mentally  found  fault  with  her  for  her  hasty  solicitation 
of  autographs,  but  her  motive  once  understood,  there 
was  nothing  that  the  most  exacting  could  have 
criticised.  No,  Rose  had  been  the  perfect  gentlewoman 
in  every  respect,  wliile  I  was  a  hypercritical  cliurl,  and 
so  far  as  self-condemnation  would  make  amends  for 


172  THE  A  URORAPnONE. 

my  criticisms,  I  made  full  atoiienieiit  Un-  my  I'uiilt. 
Still  I  felt  that  I  ought  never  to  have  doubted  Rose's 
infinite  goodness  and  refinement .  I  was  over-exacting. 
It  was  a  species  of  pettishness,  I  told  myself,  arising 
from  my  poor  health.  This  made  me  think  of  Mel 
and  the  robust  health  that  he  enjoyed.  There  was  no 
denying  that  Rose  had  shown  a  sad  want  of  judgment 
in  giving  her  heart  to  a  fault-finding  invalid,  instead 
of  to  my  good  natured,  healthy,  prosperous  cousin, 
who  had  been  so  zealous  in  his  wooing.  That  I  should 
have  been  the  favored  one  was  simply  a  miracle.  It 
would  be  a  hard  blow  to  Mel  when  he  learned  the 
truth;  indeed,  he  seemed  already  very  much  cast  down. 
Probably  he  had  surmised  that  his  love  was  hopeless. 
From  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  pitied  him,  and  I  said 
to  myself,  there  is  nothing  I  would  not  do  to  help  him 
bear  his  disappointment.  Then  why  not  help  him — or 
rather,  why  not  bear  it  altogether?  Rose's  love  for 
me,  having  originated  as  it  did,  could  not  be  deep 
seated,  however  true  it  might  be.  If  I  were  out  of  the 
way  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  Mel  could  yet  win 
Rose.  But  no,  I  could  not  renounce  such  happiness. 
It  was  more  than  could  be  expected  of  mortal  man. 
It  was  not  as  if  Rose  loved  Mel  and  I  had  some  prior 
claim  that  she  was  bound  to  respect,  no  matter  how 
disagreeable  it  might  be.  In  that  case  any  gentleman 
would  relinquish  such  prior  claim.  It  was  the  lady's 
happiness  that  must  always  be  considered,  and  in  this 
case  Rose's  happiness  depended  on  my  returning  her 
love.  But  my  self-questioning  would  not  stop  at  that. 
Was  I  truly  considering  Rose's  happiness  in  accepting 


PLEASANT  RIJIMONS.  I7;i 

the  affection  she  had  so  generously  g^iven?    My  jud"- 
nient  told  me  that  Mel  was  far  more  worthy  of  her, 
and  that  he  could  uiake  her  far  happier  than  I.    They 
were  much  better  suited  to  each  other  than  Rose  and 
I  were.    Then  there  was  the  welfare  and  the  happiness 
of  possible  descendants  to  be  considered.    While  I  was 
heart-free  I  had  not  hesitated  to  say  that  marriage 
for  me  was  out  of  the  question,  even  criminal.    The 
taint  of  consumption,  which  had  driven  me  to  Colorado 
in  the  first  place,  had  in  the  lower  altitude  of  Kansas 
reasserted  itself  to  an  extent  that  made  me  fully  alive 
to    the   fearful    consequences  to  others  that  should 
inherit  the  disease.    If  it  was  ever  a  man's  duty  to 
renounce  a  great  happiness  it  was  mine.     But  would  1 
be  renouncing  a  great  happiness  in  giving  up  Rose  to 
Mel?    Certainly  not  if  the  theory  of  permutation  of 
personality  was  true,  as  I  believed  it  was.    Self-renun- 
ciation in  this  case  was  an  investment  guaranteed  to 
yield  a  handsome  return  in  my  own  ultimate  hapjn- 
ness.    I  need  not  think  of  Mel's  pleasure  or  of  Rose'  ^. 
My  own  happiness,  to  put  it  on  a  purely  selfish  basis, 
would   be  my  reward  in  trying  to  make  these  two 
happier.     The    greater  happiness  that  they  should 
^"joy  by  my  present  sacrifice  would    become    mine 
when  I,  the  ultimate  atom  constituting  my  personality, 
should  become  the  personality  of  the  organisms  that 
they  now  tenanted.    Nor  was  this  the  only  motive 
presented  to  my  consideration.    So  surely  as  I  married 
Rose,  embittered  lives  would  follow,  and  not  only  our 
own  lives  would  be  wrecked,  but  that  of  every  creature 
in  existence.    Just  as  I  determined  now  for  good  or 


174  THE  AriiORAPIIOXE. 

evil,  80  would  every  personality  determine  when,  in 
tRe  course  of  its  progress,  it  came  to  inhabit  this  weak 
consumptive  body  of  mine.  Oh,  what  a  fearful  rcspon- 
sil)ility  rested  upon  me!  The  fate  of  untold  millions 
of  souls  depended  on  my  will,  and  again  that  indetina- 
ble  conviction  of  the  truth  of  the  theory  thrilled 
through  me  that  I  had  experienced  on  witnessing 
Pete's  rapture  when  he  contemplated  tlie  hope  it  held 
out  to  him.  The  realization  of  the  solemn  relations 
in  which  it  placed  me  to  the  universe  and  my  f(41ow- 
man,  impelled  a  belief  in  its  truth.  1  did  not  forget 
that  should  I  act  selfishly''  in  this  matter,  marry  Rose, 
and  entail  upon  all  existence  the  bitter  consequences, 
I  would  still  be  doing  right.  So  much  misery  must  be 
in  the  world  in  any  case,  and  this  selfish  act  would 
but  contribute  an  essential  element  to  ha p})iness itself. 
But  it  in  no  wise  weakened  the  motive  for  acting 
unselfishly,  for  it  remained  just  as  true,  that  as  I  now 
acted  for  weal  or  woe,  so  must  every  sentient  being- 
act.  It  was  nothing  to  my  credit  that  I  promptly 
decided  that  Mel  should  win  Rose,  so  far  as  I  could 
contrib'ite  to  that  end.  The  personality  that  had 
inhabited  my  organism  during  the  preceding  cycle 
had  also  caught  a  glim])se  of  the  great  responsibility 
resting  on  each  individual,  and  had  been  prompted  by 
the  mighty  motive  to  right  doing,  to  act  just  as  1  had, 
and  there  was  virtually  no  other  course  for  me  to 
follow.  Th<'  concatenation  of  events  that  had  revealed 
the.n:limpKe  of  my  true  relation  to  nmnkind  and  the 
universe  had  so  wrought  upon  us  — the  personalities 
that  had  successively  tenanted  my  organism  —  that 


PLEASANT  REUNIONS.  175 

we  acted  in  accordance  with  the  demands  of  morality, 
in  obedience  to  that ''  power  that  makes  for  righteous- 
ness." 

But  my  duty  seemed  not  to  be  wholly  performed  in 
renouncing  Rose.    She  must  be  saved  any  unnecessary 
suffering  from  the  fact  that  I  could  not,  or  would  not, 
return  the  love  that  she  had  lavished  upon  me.    My 
unconcern,  no  doubt,  had  been  the  one  attraction, 
and  I  had  been  so  distant  since  our  acquaintance  that 
she  had  had  no  opportunity  to  rightly  estimate  my 
faults.    She  had  certainly  overestimated  my  temper 
and  intellectuality.    This  must  all  be  changed,  even  if 
her  love  must  degenerate  into  aversion.    When  we 
again  visited  the  Pardees  I  should  no  longer  avoid 
Rose,  but  my  attentions  should  become  an  actual 
persecution.    She  should  learn  just  what  a  supercilious, 
fault-fill  ding,  irritable  misanthrope  I  really  was.     I 
should  even  exaggerate  my  faults  if  I  found  it  neces- 
sary.   As  to  her  superstition  in  regard  to  my  being  a 
companion  for  her  intellectually,   I  should  leave  no 
means  untried  to  convince  her  of  my  utter  imbecility. 
No  doubt  I  deemed  this  a  far  more  difl^cult  task  than 
it  really  was,  for  I  expended  much  hard  thought  in 
studying  out  a  line  of  conduct  that  would  impress 
Rose  with  my  entire  want  of  common  sense.    If  every- 
thing else  failed  I  could  give  her  a   Iiistory  of  my 
Kansas  speculations,  though  the  employment  of  such 
severe  measures  was  franglit  with  some  danger  to  one 
unaccustomed  to  sudden  and  painful  shocks.    By  the 
time  we  stopped  for  dinner  I  had  grown  very  confident 


170  THE  ArnonM'IKtXK 

that   my  efforts  to  dispel  Rose's  iiifatuatiou  would 
prove  a  complete  success. 

Owing  to  the  im})roved  road,  the  trip  up  the 
mountain  was  made  mucli  more  easily  and  in  lesstiuio 
than  of  old.  We  arrived  at  tiie  Retreat  a  little  before 
noon  of  the  second  day  after  leaving  the  ranch.  Mr. 
Lesage,  looking  somewhat  older,  but  serene  and  con- 
tent, came  out  to  the  wagon  to  receive  us.  Hegreet€'d 
us  warmly,  even  affectionately,  his  face  fairly  beaming 
with  delight  as  he  held  each  one's  hand  in  a  long 
friendly  clasp.  Pete,  who  had  greeted  us  so  coolly  at 
the  station,  now,  by  some  strange  whim,  deemed  it 
the  proper  time  to  nx-eive  us  as  becoming  one  who 
should  reflect  rather  than  foreshadow  his  employer's 
cordiality,  and  he  also  grasped  our  hands,  giving  each 
a  hearty  shake,  expressing  himself  as  ''Pow'ful  glad 
to  see  yo'  back  and  lookin'  so  peert."  As  we  had 
been  with  him  almost  constantly  for  a  week  we  were 
so  lost  in  astonishment  that  we  did  not  respond  so 
warmly  perhaps  as  his  honest  heart  deserved. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

EVOLUTION  AND   SENTIMENT. 

In  the  afternoon  Mr.  Lesage  conducted  us  to  the 
summit  of  the  mountain,  where  he  had  set  up  his 
second  instrument,  and  built  a  tasteful  and  substantial 
shelter  for  it  and  himself.  When  the  cold  weather  had 
come  on,  he  had  connected  the  auroraphone  with  the 
house  by  means  of  wire,  and  an  ordinary  batter}'^,  so 
that  some  one  of  his  household  was  always  within 
hearing  of  the  instrument.  Any  further  communica- 
tions from  Saturn  would  be  received  at  the  house. 
An  hour  was  spent  viewing  the  familiar  scenes  from 
the  summit. 

We  had  expected  a  message  from  Saturn  on  that 
day,  or  during  the  night,  but  none  came.  Much  to 
Mr.  Lesage's  delight  I  had  learned  to  play  chess  since 
our  previous  visit,  and  while  the  others  enjo^^ed  them- 
selves hunting  and  fishing,  the  old  gentleman  and  I 
played  chess  and  waited  on  the  auroraphone.  We  had 
been  enjoying  Mr.  Lesage's  hospitality  for  three  days 
before  Saturn  was  heard  from.  A  shower  had  driven 
the  boys  into  the  house,  and  Mr.  Lesage  and  I  were 
deeply  absorbed  in  our  favorite  game,  when  "Earth" 
was  called  in  the  tickings  so  familiar  to  us.  As  Mr. 
Lesage  was  on  the  point  of  rising  to  go  to  the  instru- 
ment it  continued  to  click  and  he  sat  still  listening  to 

12  177 


178  THE  AVROUAPHONE. 

the  message.  Presently  he  and  the  telegrapher  of  our 
party  exchanged  smiles  after  the  aggravating  manner 
of  those  who  understand  something  wholly  unintelli- 
gible to  the  others  present.  "We  were  left  but  a  moment 
in  ignorance,  as  our  host  explained  that  we  were  told 
to  continue  the  game,  and  that  while  our  correspond- 
ent realized  the  danger  to  disinterested  persons  wlio 
interfered  in  a  game  of  chess,  yet  in  order  to  show 
us  how  clearly  he  could  see  through  the  optigraj)!!  he 
asked  permission  to  suggest  a  few  moves  for  the  black 
men,  trusting  to  distance  to  preserve  him  from  harm. 
As  the  black  men,  which  1  was  playing,  were  badly 
beaten,  I  readily  assented.  By  following  the  directions 
given  by  our  Saturnian  friend  I  feoon  checkmated  my 
opponent. 

The  game  finished,  the  auroraphone  continued: 
"We  have  learned  nothing  further  in  regard  to  Mr. 
Bozar,  and  I  see  that  the  copy  of  his  communication 
ends  with  an  account  of  the  insurrection  of  the  dum- 
mies, which  was  then  just  beginning.  1  suppose  that 
the  revolt  occupied  his  whole  attention  at  the  tim^ 
and  prevented  him  from  continuing  his  report.  I 
shall  be  pleased  to  take  up  the  story,  and  continue 
the  brief  history  of  our  ])eo]Dle  up  to  the  present  time. 
But  first,  Daniel  Shepard  Holmes,  th(^  President  of 
our  Nation;  Fabian  Beauchamp,  the  Governor  of  this 
State,  and  E.  Harmon  V(*lasquez,  the  Mayor  of 
Damarque — the  Capital  Cit.y — send  greeting,  instruct- 
ing me  to  assure  3^ou  of  their  great  pleasure  at  the 
prospect  of  becoming  better  known  to  the  people  of 
earth,  and  further  express  the  hope  that  our  relations 


EVOLUTION  Ai\D  SPJNTIMENT.  179 

may  be  of  the  most  friendly  chai'tK^ter  and  asei. during 
aw  llie  cycles  of  the  universe.  1,  John  Smith,  niii  also 
delighted  to  assure  you  that  our  people  take  f»;reat 
interest  in  their  fellow  beings  of  a  younger  planet, 
regarding  them  with  sentiments  of  sineerest  love  and 
good  will. 

''There  is  not  much  to  be  told  concerning  che  war 
with  the  dummies.  The  revolt  was  a  terrible  one,  the 
bloody  horrors  of  which  no  human  tongue  can  describe. 
It  was  matal-hearted,  matal-armed  demons  against 
helpless  children.  Only  where  strong  walls  protected 
them  were  any  saved.  We  had  been  at  peace  among 
ourselves  and  with  other  nations  so  long,  that  many 
modern  cities  were  without  any  defenses  at  all,  and 
whole  cities  were  massacred  in  a  day.  But  foi-  this 
long  peace,  how^ever,  I  suppose  none  of  us  would  have 
escaped.  There  had  been  no  actual  war  since  the 
invention  of  air  ships,  and  consequently  the  dummies 
knew  nothing  of  aerial  warfare,  as  we  may  call  it,  or 
rather  they  had  no  mechanical  appliances  in  their 
make  up  that  enabled  them  to  train  their  terrible 
electrical  guns  against  an  enemy  directly  above  them. 
It  was  fortunate  indeed  that  they  were  likewise  inca- 
pable of  aiming  downward,  for  had  they  been,  our 
fortified  cities  must  have  been  destroyed  from  above, 
as  thej'' could  man  and  sail  air  ships  as  well  as  our- 
selves. Su(^h  air  ships  as  we  had  were  fitted  out  with 
the  best  guns  that  the  matal  fiends  had  left  us,  and 
from  an  altitude  of  a  few  hundred  feet  we  were  enabled 
to  sweep  whole  armies  of  the  dummies  out  of  existence. 
They ,  too,  would  endeavor  to  arm  ships  to  ascend  to  a 


180  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

level  with  our  own,  and  so  be  able  to  return  our  fire, 
but  as  we  could  see  all  their  movements  their  ships 
would  be  destroyed  before  they  could  attain  an  altitude 
to  do  us  any  harm.  As  all  our  messages  are  trans- 
mitted b^'  electrical  currents,  they  could  not  interfere 
with  our  communicating  with  all  the  other  fortified 
cities  on  oui*  planet.  Thus  we  were  enabled  to  plan  a 
simultaneous  onslaught  all  over  the  world.  In  a 
month  from  the  time  that  the  revolt  broke  out  it 
ended — terminated  by  the  destruction  or  disablement 
of  ever^^  one  of  the  matal  monsters.  The  loss  of  life 
and  destruction  of  property  far  exceeded  that  of  all  the 
wars  of  the  past  of  which  history  gives  us  any  account. 
'<  Warned  of  the  terrible  results  of  too  much  idleness, 
our  government  has  been  reconstructed  on  the  broad 
principle  of  labor,  as  we  may  call  it.  Believing  that 
industry  is  the  root  of  all  good,  the  political  and 
military  leaders  demanded  some  form  of  irovernment 
that  would  oblige  every  citizen  to  perform  a  reasonable 
amount  of  work.  Great  difficulty  was  at  first  experi- 
enced to  determine  on  the  proper  means  to  accomi)lish 
this.  Prior  to  the  invention  of  the  dummy  there  had 
been  constant  strife  between  labor  and  capital.  One 
of  our  wisest  savants  of  that  period  had  proposed  a 
solution  of  the  labor  trouble,  in  a  work  entitled  'A 
Retrospective  View.'  The  theory  advocated  was  the 
correct  one.  It  failed  to  produce  immediate  results, 
because  it  was  a  system  of  justice,  offered  to  a  people 
dominated  almost  wholly  by  tlie  spirit  of  injustice. 
Before  our  wider  knowledge  of  the  universe  had  resulted 
in  our  present  religion  of  justice,  the  dummy   had 


EVOLUTION  AND  SENTIMENT.  181 

solved  the  problem  of  labor,  and  the  theory  pro- 
pounded in  'A  Retrospective  View'  was  not  needed, 
and  so,  for  the  time  being,  was  forgotten.  But  after 
the  suppression  of  the  revolt  the  theory  was  revived, 
and  th(»  new  government  constructed  according  to  its 
principles.  All  individual  enterprises  were  suppressed, 
and  the  nation  became  the  sole  employer  of  labor. 
The  government  provides  Tor  the  education  and  main- 
tenance of  every  citizen  until  the  age  of  twenty-one, 
when  he  is  enrolled  in  the  national  industrial  army, 
each  member  of  which  receives  equal  wages.  At  forty- 
five  he  is  mustered  out,  or  rather  is  to  be  mustered 
out,  to  enter  upon  the  enjoyment  of  life,  still  drawing 
his  pay  but  exempt  from  labor  except  in  cases  of 
emergency. 

'« Owing  to  our  religious  teachings  for  many  genera- 
tions past,  our  people  readily  adai)ted  themselves  to 
the  new  form  of  government,  and  so  far  it  has  been  a 
grand  success.  Our  neighboring  nations,  with  the 
exception  of  one,  have  adopted  and  made  a  success  of 
the  industrial  army  system.  The  exception  is  the 
great  and  powerful  republic  of  Kolumba.  The  people 
are  commoidy  known  as  Gracians,  as  they  also  had 
their  inspired  teacher,  one  Gracio.  It  is  a  fact  to  be 
noted,  that  while  the  several  nations  of  our  platiet 
have  had  their  great  scientists,  discoverers,  and 
inventors,  none  but  the  religious  teachers  have  been 
honored  with  a  multitude  of  followers  bearing  their 
names  as  a  mark  of  love  and  veneration.  This  we 
attribute  to  the  fact  that  religion  ranks  above  every- 
thing in  the  social  and  moral  growth  of  nations. 


182  THE  AURORAPHOM:. 

"  The  Gracians'  iTli«;ion  seems  to  us  rather  unique. 
They  believe  that  by  the  «i:race  of  God  many  are  saved 
for  an  endless  life  of  happiness  beyond  the  grave,  while 
the  unsaved  are  doomed  to  endless  torment.  Man^' 
of  their  foremost  teachers  liav(^  denied  that  this  is  the 
true  doctrine  of  Gracio,  claiming  that  works  and 
man's  free  will  figure  largely  in  the  matter  of  salvation. 
It  seems  to  our  wise  men,  however,  that  one  of  their 
apostles,  Calvanas  by  name,  was  the  clearest  thinker 
and  most  logical  expounder  of  the  true  teachings  of 
Gracio,  and  he  was  profoundly  convinced  that  the  fate 
of  souls  had  been  predetermined  by  Deit}'.  It  was  not, 
our  philosophers  said,  that  Gracio  taught  the  better 
doctrine  of  responsibility  and  free  will,  but  that  the 
spirit  of  justice  impelled  his  followers  to  advance 
beyond  the  old  faiths,  while  still  retaining  the  name 
so  venerated. 

"  As  a  consequence  of  the  doctrine  of  election  in  the 
popular  religion,  kings  were  supposed  to  rulebydivipe 
grace.  With  a  more  democratic  form  of  government, 
the  rulers  were  supposed  to  be  somewhat  less  under 
divine  guidance,  l)ut  still  they  were  n^garded  as  in 
some  wny  better  than  the  mass  of  humanity.  Even 
the  po8S(»S8ors  of  great  wealth  came  to  regard  them- 
selves as  entitled  to  the  worship  and  service  of  the 
rest  of  mankind,  ju-counting  themselves  the  elect  of 
God,  to  rule  in  time  as  well  as  in  eternity.  This  kej3t 
the  gulf  between  poverty  and  wealth  continually 
widening,  until  the  dummy  came  on  the  scene  and 
bridged  over  the  chasm  by  doing  all  the  work  and 
lifting  every  one  to  a  condition  of  comfort  and  happi- 


EVOLUTIOX  AND  SENTIMENT.  183 

ness.     For   several   years   prior   to    the   revolt   the 
Gracians  had  adopted  our  religion— the  belief  in  the 
permutation  of  personality,  which,  above  all  religions, 
insists  on  the  equality  of  men.    But  now  that  they 
realize  the  danger  of  trusting  all  work  to  machines, 
they,  too,  have  determined  that  people  must  do  the 
work  of  the  world,  to  insure  safety.    But  they  no 
sooner  determined  on  this  than  their  old  religion  was 
revived  with  its  pernicious  doctrine  that  by  grace 
some  of  them  were  not  destined  to  work,  while  certain 
others  were  especially  created  to  serve  them.    Hence 
their  social  and  political  system  is  already  one  of 
industrial  slavery,  with  its  inevitable  accompamments 
of  poverty,  suffering,  riots,  crime  and  ignorance.  It  is 
no  wonder  that  they  have  revived  their  old  religion, 
for  it  serves  to  justify  the  rich  in  their  oppressions,  and 
affords  in  its  promises  of  a  blessed  hereafter  some 
consolation  to  the  poor  wretches  that  serve  them. 
Contrary  to  our  usual  custom  we  have  sent  mission- 
aries among  them,  to  try  to  convert  tnem  from  the 
error  of  their  ways,  and  persuade  them  again  to  adopt 
our  system  of  government,  but  to  no  purpose  so  far. 
The  trouble  is  that  their  acceptance  of  our  belief  in 
the  first  place  was  but  superficial,  for  they  now  claim 
that  to  inaugurate  the  industrial  system,  some  of 
them  must  sacrifice  the  remainder  of  their  lives  to  the 
good  of  the  succeeding  generation-that  those  who 
must  first  enlist  in  the  industrial  army  are  mostly 
men  who  are  past  the  age  when  they  should  be  mus- 
tered out,  and  that  to  get  the  system  fairly  started 
these  must  remain  in  the  army  until  no  time  is  left 


184  THE  AVRnnAPTinXE. 

them  to  enjoy  tlie  fruits  of  their  labor.  Thus  tliey 
even  make  out  the  case  worse  tlian  it  is  to  fortify  the 
old  belief.  True,  we  had  the  same  ditficulty  to  contend 
afr«iinst,  only  that  our  reli<::ion,  teachinfi;  tliat  our  old 
men  wlio  must  now  form  tlie  army  shall  in  some  future 
cycle  reap  the  reward  of  their  labors,  made  it  no 
dithculty  at  all. 

''It  may  mystify  you  somewhat  that  they  were 
not  convinced  by  the  demonstrations  of  Certolo«i:y. 
But  the  reiteration  of  its  theorems  brought  out  the 
boast  that  they  were  descendants  of  those  who  had 
burned  wise  men  for  teachin^^  simple  astronomical 
truths  which  conflicted  with  the  teachings  of  their 
sacred  books.  But  still  our  teachers  labor  with  them, 
for  now  we  know  that  the  wretchedness  and  misery 
which  spring  from  their  system  must  eventually'  be 
our  own.  But  we  have  broad  charity  for  them.  Their 
religion  believed  in  so  long  cannot  be  set  aside  in  a 
day.  Our  own  religion  has  all  along  been  a  prepara- 
tion for  accepting  and  adapting  ourselves  to  new 
truths  as  they  are  from  time  to  time  discovered  and 
recognized.  So  whih;  we,  with  perfect  faith  in  the 
future,  are  laying  thefoundationfora  grand  industrial 
millennium,  they  are  drifting.back  into  the  old  condi- 
tion of  class  distinctions,  corruption,  and  oppression. 
Their  religion  is  at  the  bottom  of  their  trouble. 
Believing  in  a  God  to  whom  they  ascribe  every  species 
of  injustice,  it  is  only  natural  that  their  political 
system  reflects  their  distorted  ideas  of  deity.  Many  of 
their  foremost  thinkers,  who  have  out-grown  the  old 
superstitions,  go  to  the  opposite  extreme  and  teach 


EVOLUTION  AND  SENTIMENT.  185 

even  a.  more  perniciouH  doctrine,  in  regard  to  deity. 
Dissatisfied  with  tlie  divine  monster  oi"  their  fore- 
fathers, they  deny  that  any  such  deity  exists,  and 
substitute  for  him  the  self-existent  universe,  that  goes 
on  sacrificing  each  generation  for  the  good  of  succeed- 
ing generations,  making  out  of  the  cosmos  a  greater 
monstrosity  than  the  old  deity.  Here  again  we  have 
an  exact  parallel  between  the  conception  of  deity  and 
the  moral  and  social  system  growing  out  of  it.  These 
philosophers  would  have  the  universe  ever  progressing, 
ever  assuming  new  and  more  advanced  forms,  but 
never  arriving  at  a  stage  of  perfection,  or  a  climax 
where  progression  must  be  followed  by  retrogression. 
How,  from  the  present  cosmical  processes,  tliis  is 
possible,  they  do  not  care  to  explain.  Then  they  would 
have  each  generation  out-stripping  the  preceding  one 
in  morality.  They  base  their  hopes  of  moral  progress 
on  the  fact  that  there  are  many  who  have  lived  pure 
lives  and  devoted  themselves  to  mankind  without  any 
motives  drawn  from  a  future  life.  They  disregard  the 
fact  that  back  of  these  noble  lives  is  an  ancestry  whose 
incentive  to  moral  conduct  has  l)eeh  their  firm  belief 
in  future  rewards  and  punishments.  These  pure  lives 
^  do  but  prove  that  a  moral  momentum  may  be  ac- 
quired, as  well  as  physical  momentum.  The  naturally 
moral  man  has  acquired  a  moral  momentum  that 
carries  him  along  the  moral  path  without  the  imme- 
diate application  of  moral  force  in  the  shape  of 
religious  beliefs.  And  were  men  of  this  t\\)e  surrounded 
by  a  pure  moral  atmosphere  they  might  live,  and 
transmit  to  their  offspring  the  power  to  live  perfect 


186  THE  ArnORAPHOXE. 

moral  lives.  With  social,  conditions  as  they  are, 
however,  to  talk  of  moral  progress  without  the  aid 
of  religious  beliefs  to  appeal  to  the  selfish  side  of  our 
natures,  is  as  unscientific  as  to  talk  of  perpetual 
motion. 

''I  see  by  the  electrometer  that  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  tax  your  patience  any  further  at  present,  and  it 
will  be  about  forty  hours" — 

The  aurorai)hone  ceased,  as  we  supposed  from  the 
com])lete  exhaustion  of  the  electrical  current,  and  Ave 
concluded  that  forty  hours  must  elapse  before  we 
should  hear  from  Mr.  Smith  again.  Althougli  it  was 
then  near  midnight  we  talked  for  an  hour  before 
retiring.  Mr.  Lesage  and  myself  were  the  onl^^  ones 
that  acce])ted  tlie  Creetans'  view  of  the  Cosmos  and  of 
the  permutation  of  personality.  M(  1  adhered  to  his 
former  view,  that  while  the  Saturnians  had  so  many 
doctrines  they  had  yet  to  learn  of  the  one  true  doc- 
trine—Salvation in  Christ.  The  students  sided  with 
Mel,  while  Jim  held  that  he  was  neutral,  though  he 
confessed  to  being  somewhat  prejudiced  against  our 
distant  neighbors  on  account  of  the  destruction  of  our 
wonderful  orchestra,  which  he  counted  a  loss  far  out 
of  proportion  to  anything  we  had  gained.  ''Were  it 
not  for  my  prejudice,"  he  said,  *'  I  would  concede  that 
the  permutation  ol  ])ersonality  was  the  only  process 
whereby  exact  justice  could  be  meted  nut  to  all.  Yes,  I 
will  go  further,"  he  continued,  "and  sa^'  tliat  if  there 
be  an  all-powerful  deity  who  controls  the  operations 
of  the  universe,  he  is  certainly  guilty  of  injustice  if  he 
don't  govern  cosmical  j^rocesses  so  as  to  bring  about 


EVOLUTION  AND  SENTIMENl.  187 

a  permutation  of  personality.    I  can't  see  why  a  great 
portion  of  hnmanity  is  born  diseased  and  doomed  to 
suffering-,  unless,  indeed,  they  are  bearing  a  portion  of 
the  world's  woe,  and  in  that  case  1  think  it  only  justice 
that  I,  too,  should  some  time  bear  the  same  burden 
while  they  enjoy  my  good  health,  bright  prospects  and 
clear  conscience.     It   is   painful   to  contemplate  all 
tlie  suffering  I  must  pass  through,  but  others  have  to 
bear  it,  and  anything  short  of  making  all  bear  it  alike 
must  fail  short  of  justice.    Then  it  is  pleasant  to  con- 
template all  the  pleasure  the  soul  must  enjoy  in  its 
progress  through  the  various  organisms  that  people 
the  universe.    Of  course  when  the  soul  has  made  the 
entire  circuit  it  must  start  again  on  the  same  journey, 
and  so  on  forever.    That  is  the  price  of  existence.    I 
have  been  taught  that  I  should  go  to  heaven  to  enjoy 
a  life  of  endless  happiness,  but  after  all  I  doubt  if  that 
offers  as  great  an  attraction  as  the  life  of  endless 
activity  alternating  with  pleasure  and  pain.    Even  if 
the  idea  of  heaven  be  a  rational  one,  1  believe  there 
are  many  men  who  would  choose  the  life  of  chang-e 
though  I  doubt  if  the  idea  of  uninterrupted  happiness 
is  a  rational  conception." 

Mr.  Lesage  and  I  could  but  be  pleased  with  Jim's 
neutrality. 

One  of  the  students  who,  tw^o  years  before,  had  lost 
his  wife  and  child,  now  brought  out  a  phase  of  the 
new  doctrine  which,  to  liim,  seemed  ver^' objectionable. 
"This  love,"  he  said,  ''which  we  have  for  the  com- 
panion of  life,  is  it  not  in  cases  like  my  own  ever 
doomed  to  disappointment?    I  have  nothing  to  which 


188  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

to  look  forward  but  the  two  short  years  of  my  married 
life,  to  satisfy  my  hope  of  meeting  again  my  first  and 
only  love.  All  the  suffering  that  I  must  endure  can 
purchase  but  those  two  years  of  companionship. 
What  companionship  with  others  can  recompense  for 
that  which  I  have  lost?  and  of  all  those  seasons  of 
domestic  bliss  in  which  I  am  to  participate  none  can 
equal  my  own  had  it  but  been  continued  to  old  age." 

Here  Mr.  Lesage  answered:  "To  my  mind  this 
seems  the  most  beautiful  part  of  the  theory,  as  it 
forces  us  out  of  ourselves.  You  must  look  for  your 
consolation  to  those  same  instances  of  complete  com- 
panionship continued  to  the  close  of  life.  You  are 
inclined  to  think  that  the  companionship  of  j^ourself 
and  wife  was  superior  to  all  others.  In  this  you  err, 
for  granting  that  yours  was  the  most  perfect  love  and 
the  happiest  companionship  of  the  present  times,  yet 
future  developments  must  produce  happier  conditions 
and  more  pleasurable  domestic  relations,  which  you 
will  enjoy  all  the  more  keenly  when  you  come  to  inhabit 
the  organisms  of  that  period."  Not  caring  to  argue 
the  point,  the  student  remained  silent.  One  of  his 
companions  now  expressed  himself  as  greatly  puzzled 
as  to  how  he  could  be  his  own  father  and  mother,  as 
he  must  be  if  the  theory  were  true.  But  in  fact  this 
could  have  puzzled  him  no  more  than  to  conceive  how 
he  could  be  any  other  person.  He  was  evidently  con- 
founding personality  and  the  organism,  as  his  person- 
ality could  act  as  the  personality  of  his  father's  or 
mother's  organism  with  the  same  consistency  that  it 
could  act  as  the  personality  of  any  other  organism. 


EVOLUTION  AND  SENTIMENT.  189 

Mr.  Lesage,  to  whom  we  looked  for  explanations  of 
the  knotty  points,  did  not  deem  the  objection  of 
sufficient  importance  to  merit  any  reply  from  him. 
Another  of  the  students  was  skeptical  about  an  ulti- 
mate atom  constituting  personality.  "Physiology 
taught  that  every  particle  of  the  body  was  changed 
every  seven  years,  so  he  couldn't  see  how  there  could 
be  that  exchange  of  personalities  which  the  theory' 
demanded.  Besides,  modern  psychologists  contend 
that  the  ego,  or  personality,  is  a  succession  of  ideas, 
—the  sum  of  our  conscious  states,  and  this  again  is 
inconsistent  with  the  theory  of  permutation." 

Mr.  Lesage,  in  reply  to  this,  assured  us  that  he  had 
made  a  careful  study  of  these  points  and  that  he  could 
find  nothing  that  seemed  to  be  inconsistent  with  the 
theory  of  an  exchange  of  souls.  ' '  From  a  materialistic 
standpoint,"  he  said,  "personality  must  belong  to 
the  organism,  or  to  the  ultimate  atom  which  survives 
all  changes  of  the  organism.  If  the  organism  changes 
from  time  to  time,  and  still  transmits  the  personality 
to  the  succeeding  organism,  so  might  the  ultimate 
atom  personality  change  and  still  transmit  the  per- 
sonality to  the  succeeding  atom.  One  is  just  as 
reasonable  as  the  other.  The  point  is  that  a  certain 
ultimate  atom,  by  being  in  a  certain  place  at  a  certain 
time,  is  responsible  for  our  personality,  and  granting 
that  it  passes  away  the  next  moment  after  originatin.2: 
the  personality  of  the  organism,  it  must,  in  theceaseh^ss 
activity  of  the  cosmos,  serve  to  originate  the  person- 
ality of  every  organism  that  comes  into  existence. 
The  succession  of  conscious  states  is  dependent  on  an 


100  THL  AURORAPIIOSE. 

org:anism,  and  the  real  ego  must  be  sought  for  at  the 
conception  of  the  tiniest  organism  from  which  this 
organism  we  call  the  l)ody  is  derived.  So  that  whether 
we  are  an  ultimate  atom,  a  group  of  atoms,  a  '  bundle 
of  states  of  consciousm^ss,'  a  'succession  of  peculiarly 
combined  atoms, '  a '  faint  manifestation  of  the  unknow- 
able' or  a  'series  of  memories,'  the  permutation  of 
personality  follows  from  a  limited  active  universe." 

The  telegrapher  said  he  had  been  wondi^ring  why  it 
was  that  the  Creetan's  language  having  developed 
just  as  our  own,  yet  has  different  names  for  the 
planets. 

''This,''  Mr.  Lesage  answered,  "I  can't  explain 
further  than  to  remind  you  that  it  could  not  have 
been  otherwise.  Had  \Aw\v  language  grown  exactly  as 
our  own  tliey  would  have  called  their  planet  earth, 
and  would  have  had  to  designate  our  planet  by  some 
other  name  which  would  involve  the  same  dissimi- 
larity. The  names  had  to  differ  in  regard  to  the 
planets,  and  their  nomenclature  is,  no  doubt,  the  nat- 
ural one,  and  just  as  good  as  any." 

With  these  things  to  ponder  over  we  retired. 

The  following  day  Jim  and  the  students  devoted 
to  hunting  and  fishing ;  Mel  wrote  letters,  while  Mr. 
Lesage  and  I  played  chess,  and  discussed  the  Creetan 
philosophy,  or  the  scientific  moves  which  had  been 
suggested  by  Mr.  Smith.  Mel  seemed  to  be  reasonably 
cheerful  considering  his  disappointment  in  love. 
However,  it  would  not  do  to  allow  liim  to  suffer  in  any 
degree,  when  there  was  no  necessity  for  it.  I  must 
manage  in  some  way  to  encourage  and  cheer  him  up 


EVOLUTION  AND  SENTIMENT.  llil 

with  the  knowledge  that  he  was  to  be  the  successful 
suitor  for  Rose's  hand.  That  evening  one  of  the  men, 
who  liad  been  sent  to  the  station  for  supplies,  returned, 
bringing  the  mail.  Mel  was  the  only  one  of  our  party 
that  received  a  letter,  which,  with  an  inexplicable 
twinge  of  jealousy,  I  suspected  was  from  Rose.  He 
brightened  up  perceptibly  when  the  letter  was  handed 
to  him,  but  its  perusal  was  followed  by  such  marked 
despondency  that  I  pitied  him  more  than  ever.  At 
first  I  had  thought  it  hardly  proper  in  Rose  to  write 
to  Mel  and  nob  to  me.  But  it  was  very  womanlike 
after  all.  She  would  feel  a  delicacy  about  writing  to 
one  who  had  not  yet  declared  himself,  though  it  was 
fully  understood  between  us  that  our  love  was  mutual. 
Still  she  would  write  to  her  friend  without  restraint. 
Yes,  I  must  at  once  curb  the  tendency  to  criticize  Rose, 
for  had  it  not  been  proved  time  and  again  that  I  was 
at  fault? 

Later  in  the  evening  Mel  started  out  for  a  moon- 
light ramble  up  the  trail  that  led  to  the  Summit.  Not 
doubting  that  I  should  find  him  in  the  lodge  which 
had  been  built  to  protect  the  auroraohone,  and  wishing 
to  cheer  and  encourage  him,  I  followed  my  cousin  a 
few  minutes  later.  He  evidently  wanted  to  be  alone, 
but  as  I  was  going  to  reverse  our  positions  and  become 
the  comforter,  I  had  no  hesitancy  in  intruding  on  him. 
A.8  I  had  expected,  T  found  Mel  in  the  lodge,  sitting  at 
the  open  window  gazing  at  the  silvery  moon,  which 
sailed  calmly  and  serenely  past  light  fleecy  clouds,  all 
unconscious  of  the  pain  that  throbbed  in  Mel's  aching 
heart. 


192  THE  AlIiORAPHOyt;. 

"  Well,  old  boy,"  I  said,  ''you've  come  up  here  to 
have  a  fit  of  despondency  all  to  yourself,  have  you?  " 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  "but  you  do  not  seem  inclined 
to  allow  me  any  sucli  indulgence;  and  now  that  you've 
come  I  will  just  take  you  into  my  confidence  and  make 
you  share  my  trouble,  though  you,  no  doubt,  will 
regard  the  whole  thing  as  a  very  trifling  affair.  My 
profession,  as  you  know,  is  far  more  to  me  than  to 
most  physicians,  and  I  can  say  without  boasting  that 
my  removal  from  the  little  community  where  I  have 
been  practicing  will  be  regarded  as  a  calamity,  so 
earnestly  have  I  tried  to  be  a  friend  and  healer  to  my 
patients.  It  is  only  in  hopes  of  extending  my  sphere 
of  usefulness  that  I  have  decided  to  seek  a  larger  field 
of  action.  But  when  I  shall  have  once  settled  down 
to  my  work  in  the  place  I  have  chosen,  it  is  to  be  for 
life  without  absence  or  holiday,  for  where  is  the 
physician  that  can  be  spared  even  for  a  day  from  the 
sufferers  to  wdiom  it  is  his  holy  mission  and  highest 
pleasure  to  administer?  " 

"  Well,"  I  responded, "  you  are  surely  not  begrudg- 
ing this  little  respite  of  two  months,  are  y(ni? 

"No,  I  can't  say  that  I  begrudge  it,  but  I  believel 
regret  it.  It  is  like  this.  I  have  concluded  to  marry, 
and  the  lady  of  my  choice,  I  am  convinced,  loves  me 
devotedly,  but  positively  refuses  to  entertain  the  idea 
of  marriage  for  a  year  yet." 

Feeling  that  this  was  indeed  a  trifling  matter,  I 
])roke  into  a  hearty  laugh,  greatly  relieved  at  the 
thought  that  Mel  had  been  already  engaged  before  he 
met  Rose,  and  so  had  suffered  no  disappointment  in 


EVOLUTION  AND  SENTIMENT.  193 

that  direction.  It  seemed  to  me,  then,  that  if  I  only 
had  Rose's  infatuation  for  me  dispelled  I  should  not 
have  had  a  care  in  the  world. 

"1  knew  you  would  make  light  of  it,"  Mel  said, 
"but  you  do  not  realize  the  seriousness  of  it  yet. 
After  a  careful  consideration  of  the  subject,  I  believe  I 
ought  to  get  married  during  this  vacation,  even 
though  I  extend  it  two  or  three  months  for  the  wedding 
trip.  If  I  once  g'et  to  work  with  a  number  of  patients 
needing  my  daily  attention,  it  will  be  a  sore  trial  to 
my  conscience  to  desert  them  even  for  so  important  a 
matter  as  matrimony;  to  leave  them  for  the  length  of 
time  that  I  should  w^ant  to  devote  to  a  wedding  tour 
is  simply  out  of  the  question.  I  can't  w^ell  continue 
this  vacation  for  an  entire  year,  in  order  that  my  prac- 
tice may  not  interfere  with  my  honeymoon.  So  j^ou 
see,  cousin,  that  to  a  conscientious  man  like  myself, 
the  lady's  obstinacy— 1  can  call  it  nothing  less— is  a 
serious  matter.  It  seems  to  me  that  if  she  loves  me  as 
devotedly  as  she  pretends,  she  w^ould  see  the  reason- 
ableness of  my  demands,  and  consent  to  an  early  mar- 
riage. Sweet  tempered  and  sensible  as  w^e  know  her  to 
be  in  all  other  respects,  you  will  surely  agree  with  me 
that  in  this  Rose  in  unreasonable." 

Rose!  The  long  w^histle  of  astonishment  to  which 
I  gave  vent  was  genuine,  if  the  laugh  which  I  affected 
was  no.t.  Despite  my  high-minded  scheme  of  renuncia- 
tion, this  discovery  created  a  sensation  similar  to  that 
created  by  my  tumble  into  the  icy  pool  of  the  cavern, 
though  in  this  case  there  was  no  agreea,ble  reaction.  No, 
1  felt  only  a  bitter  sense  of  loss,  of  humiliation  and  vin- 

13 


194  THi:  Al'ROIiM'JIOXK 

(lictiveness.  "  Such  scandalous  affairs,  th-ink  fortune," 
I  thought,  "  are  rare.  Rose  and  M<*1  engajrcd  after  an 
acciuaintance  of  only  ei«!,ht  days ! "'  There  was  boldness 
for  you!  Here,  indeed,  was  a  taint  of  the  inherent  ill- 
breeding  of  the  Pardee  family,  coming  to  the  surface. 
It  was  some  satisfaction  to  think  that  I  myself  li.nl 
not  been  duped  by  the  country  girl's  coquetry,  but 
that  Pete,  the  conceited  old  idiot,  was  wholly  to  blame. 
So  much  for  Pete's  knowledge  of  sentiments  and  my 
own  analysis  of  the  feminine  heart.  Fortunately  it 
was  so  dark  that  Mel  could  not  see  my  face,  as  it  must 
have  shown  the  rancor  and  mortification  that  I  felt. 
I  could  do  nothing  more  in  the  capacity  of  a  comforter, 
and  for  the  next  few  days  I  was  myself  very  despon- 
dent. It  was  one  thing  to  voluntarily  give  up  the 
woman  I  loved,  and  quite  another  to  have  to  give 
her  up.  Feeling  that  my  gloom  and  Mel's  perplexity 
made  rather  a  poor  combination  for  cheerfulness,  I  ex- 
cused myself,  and,  leaving  him  to  his  meditations,  re- 
turned to  the  house,  a  madder  but  wiser  man.  I  was 
glad  when  on  the  following  evening  Saturn  was  heard 
from,  as  it  helped  both  my  cousin  and  m^^self  to  forget 
our  troubles. 

*'  I  have  just  returned,"  said  Mr.  Smith  through  the 
auroraphone,  <<from  a  meeting  of  philosophers,  scien- 
tists and  statesmen  which  had  been  called  to  discuss  the 
true  uses  of  laborintheeconomy  of  theuniverse.  ^  Since 
all  classes  have  been  working  there  has  been  such  a 
marked  improvement  in  our  ])eople  generally  that  labor 
is  now  thought  to  be  the  most  important  factor  of  pro- 
gress.   A  species  of  culture  and  refinement  may  spring 


EVOLUT'lON  AND  ShWTIMENT.  195 

up  apart  from  Ijibor,  but  fortlic  true  intellectual  devel- 
opment of  a  i)eople,  minds  and  hands  must  be  trained 
together.    Advancement  may  be  made  where  all  the 
manual  labor  falls  to  one  class  and  all  tliehi<iher  men- 
tal work  to  another  class,  but  where  all  particii)ate  in 
the  labor  and  all  have  a  chance,  and,  indeed,  are  com- 
pelled to  engage  to  some  extent  in  intellectual  pur- 
suits the  progress  is  much  more  rapid  and  satisfactory. 
Then  the  question  arose,  what  is  the  use  of  intellectual 
development?  From  the  discussion  of  these  points,  to- 
day, a  higher  idea  of  deity  has  been  developed.    That 
intelligence  grows  not  only  by  the  exercise  of  it,  but  by 
inheritance,  has  long  been  regarded  by  us  as  a  truism. 
In  its  origin,  consciousness  was  wholly  dependent  on 
an  external  excitant.    Given  an   organism,  no  con- 
sciousness could  have  arisen   without  some  external 
obejct  to  make  an  impression    on    that    organism. 
Hence  it  is  a  truth  that  there  can  be  no  consciousness 
without  the  antithesis  of  subject  and  object.   But  while 
it  was  absolutelj^  necessary  for  the  origin  of  conscious- 
ness that  there  should  be  such  antithesis,  yet  by  de- 
velopment through  inheritance  we  are  becoming  less 
dependent  on  the  objective  element  of  consciousness. 
This  is  so  evident  that  many  of  our  most  })rofound 
philosophers  contend  that  the  mind  creates  the  ex- 
ternal world,  instead  of  llu'  oi>erations  of  mind  being 
determined  by  obje(*tive  existence.    It  had  been  con- 
tended by  other  profound  ])hilosophers  that  an  objec- 
tive cause  is  necessary  to  every  mental  operation. 
These  two  factions,  to  day,  reconciled  their  differences 
on  the  principle  of  inherited  predisposition.    It  was 


196  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

agreed  on  all  hands  that  intelligence  starts  with  simple 
sensations  caused  by  external  objects,  that  we  are  yet 
largely  dependent  on  such  external  causes,  but  that 
there  are  processes  at  work  which  must  result  in  con- 
sciousness altogether  independent  of  an  objective  cause. 
That  there  is  no  need  of  this  independent  conscious- 
ness as  long  as  there  is  subjective  and  objective  ex- 
istence is  made  the  ground  for  assuming  that  such  in- 
dependent consciousness  can  exist  only  in  the  universe 
as  a  whole.  The  cosmos  being  one,  alone,  and  limited,  if 
conscious  at  a  11  must  be  conscious  independent  of  any  ex- 
ternal cause.  This  supreme  consciousness  must  itself 
be  developed,  and  the  progress  made  by  each  indi- 
vidual, nation,  planet,  and  system  of  planets,  is  so  much 
towards  the  upbuilding  of  an  all-conscious  sentient 
Deity.  The  past  and  future  are  obscure  to  our  relative 
intelligence,  but  the  gradual  evolution  of  this  supreme 
intelligence  is  the  key  to  all  those  problems  of  a  First 
Cause,  of  change  from  absolute  to  relative  life,  and  the 
final  change,  at  the  close  of  each  cycle,  from  relative  to 
absolute  life.  All  relative  motion  must  be  transformed 
into  absolute  motion — that  is,  all  relative  motion  of 
the  various  parts  and  atoms  of  the  universe  must  ex- 
pend itself  in  producing  the  one  absolute  rotation  of 
the  whole  mass.  This  mass  now  rotating  in  a  perfect 
void  must,  so  far  as  our  relative  intelligence  can  divine, 
continue  its  absolute  rotation  for  ever,  unless  there  is 
developed  an  intellectual  force  that  controls  its  action 
just  as  there  has  been  developed  an  intellectual  force 
that  has,  within  limits,  or  relatively,  control  of  our 
bodies.    This  is  the  supreme  function  of  intelligence,  to 


\ 
EVOLUTION  AND  SENTIMENT.  197 

perpetuate  the  life  and  activity  of  the  universe.  Uni- 
versal labor,  by  promoting  universal  intelligence,  thus 
becomes  the  most  honorable  and  sacred  duty  of  man. 
As  the  personality  of  relative  bein<2,-s  is  dependent  on 
an  ultimate  atom,  so  will  the  supreme  personality  be 
dependent  on  an  ultimate  atom.  It,  too,  must  have 
made  the  long  round  of  relative  existence  before  it  be- 
comes absolute.  It  is  entitled  to  remain  in  absolute 
existence  for  a  period  of  time  equal  to  that  passed  in 
relative  existence,  but  to  remain  longer  in  the  absolute 
condition,  though  having  the  power  to  do  so,  would 
be  injustice,— a  direct  violation  of  the  law  that  action 
and  reaction  are  equal  and  opposite.  Consequently 
when  justice  is  accomplished,  and  having  control  of 
the  body — the  vast  universe— the  supreme  intelligence 
w^orks  the  change  from  absolute  motion  to  relative 
motion  and  begins  anotlier  cycle,  which  closes  with 
another  ultimate  atom  becoming  the  supreme  Person- 
ality,  and  so  on  for  all  eternity.  Each  of  us  in  turn 
must  become  the  absolute.  And  so  existence  is  made 
up.  Were  it  anything  else  it  would  not  be  existence. 
Nor  is  it  l)lasphemous  egotism  to  look  forward  to  be- 
coming even  as  Deity  himself.  The  round  of  relative 
existence  that  must  be  passed  through,  before  we  at- 
tain to  the  highest  condition,  is  anything  but  satis- 
factory to  the  ego.  Were  it  within  the  power  of  any 
relative  ego  to  dispense  with  the  relative  existence  in 
order  to  forego  the  absolute  it  would  no  doubt  be  done 
at  some  stag(»  of  dt^'p  misery  in  our  progress.  But  we 
are  carried  along  1)3^  tlie  infinite  processes  and  must 
take  both  good  and  bad,  high  and  low  conditions.  We 


198  THE  AURORAPHOXE. 

are,  and  cannot  cease  to  he,  nor  escape  bearing  our 
part  of  the  burdens  of  existence,  neither  can  we  avoid, 
if  we  would,  receiving  our  full  share  of  the  pleasure. 
The  one  equals  the  other,  this  being  the  highest  ex- 
pression of  the  equivalence  and  transformation  of 
forces.  The  final  act  of  creation,  as  we  ma^'  call  tlie 
beginning  of  relative  motion,  is  determined  by  pure 
love  of  justice,  and  mankind  must  contribute  its  quota 
of  this  love  b}^  acts  of  justice  to  one  another.  It  has 
long  been  contended  that  no  rational  account  of  the 
universe  is  possible  without  assuming  an  intelligent, 
intinitelj-just  and  all-powerful  First  Cause.  It  has  been 
conceded  by  our  atheistic  philosophers  that  a  true  ex- 
planation of  the  universe  does  demand  such  a  First 
Cause,  but  the  fearful  examples  of  wrong  and  injustice 
witnessed  on  every  hand  negatived  any  evidence  in 
favor  of  an  all-wise,  omnipotent,  beneficent  Creator  ex- 
isting at  present.  But  now  all  are  agreed  that  this 
Supreme  Being  did  exist  and  gave  rise  to  the  universe 
in  its  relative  condition,  that  this  Creator  is  being 
again  evolved  by  the  processes  of  the  active  universe, 
and  that  this  supreme  outcome  of  all  physical  and  in- 
tellectual processes  was  none  the  less  beneficent  and 
wise  for  making  pleasure  dependent  on  pain,  since  there 
is  no  other  way  that  pleasure  could  have  been  intro- 
duced into  the  world  at  all.  The  supreme  justice  of 
deity  is  seen  in  the  fact  that  all  alike  must  partake  of 
the  sorrow  and  phasure  through  the  permutation  of 
personality. 

''I  have  now  given  you  the  main  features  of  the  dis- 
cussion, and  trust  you  will  carefully  think  them  over 


EVOLUTION  AND  SENTIMENT.  199 

at  your  leisure.  Since  the  revolt  there  are  so  few  of 
us  left,  comparatively  speaking-,  that  I  can  spare  only 
an  hour  occasionally  from  the  regular  work  I  must  do 
as  a  member  of  tlie  industrial  army.  I  shall  have  to 
excuse  myself  now  for  a  week,  and  in  tl)e  mean  time  I 
am  sure  you  can  employ  yourselves  profitably  in  con- 
sidering the  religious  and  social  principles  of  our 
people." 

After  some  talk,  we  retired,  not,  however,  before 
M(A  had  arranged  tliat  we  were  to  return  to  the 
Pardee  farm  on  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

A  FORTUNATE  ESCAPE. 

Early  on  the  folh^wiiig  nioriiiiip,"  we  left  Mr.  Lesage 
to  do  most  of  the  thinking  over  the  evolution  of  deity, 
and  under  Pete's  care  started  down  the  mountain.  It 
was  natural  that  Mel,  in  view  of  seeing  Rose  soon, 
should  regain  his  wonted  good  humor.  I  myself  had 
some  ground  for  feeling  cheerful.  I  was  relieved  from 
the  prodigious  task  of  covering  up  my  intellectual 
brilliancies.  The  harrowing  details  of  tlio  Kansas 
speculations  need  never  be  told  to  overcome  Rose's 
unfortunate  attachment  for  myself.  I  had  forgiven 
Rose,  and  held  her  in  as  high  estimation  as  ever.  Her 
little  affectionate  hand-clasp  was  just  cousinly,  and 
prompted  b}'^  her  womanly  affection  going  out  to  all 
that  was  dear  to  the  one  she  loved.  I  was  glad  to 
know  that  she  had  not  even  suspected  my  passion  for 
her,  and  that  she  had  not  was  evident  from  the  man- 
ner of  her  leave-taking.  I  had  even  forgiven  Pete  for 
his  conceited  otficiousness  in  the  matter,  and,  in  fact, 
felt  but  little  worsted  by  my  love  affair.  If  I  could  only 
keep  my  secret,  all  would  be  well,  and  by  slmnning  Rose 
as  I  had  done  befoie  there  would  be  bub  little  danger 
of  anyone  suspecting  my  infatuation. 

In  due  time  we  arrived  at  tho  farm  and  were  cor- 
dially received  by  the  Pardees.    It  soon  became  evi- 


A  FORTUNATE  ESCAPE.  201 

dent,  however,  that  a  cloud  had  fallen  on  the  family 
during'  our  absence.  The  troul)le(l  look  I  had  noticed 
on  Bub's  face  when  he  spoke  of  his  father  was  now 
habitunl.  Rose,  too,  had  lost  much  of  her  cheerful- 
ness, while  Mr.  Pardee  and  his  wife  both  seemed  out  of 
humor,  the  former  unusually  reticent,  the  latter  driv- 
ing' and  scolding.  Mel  and  Rose  seemed  not  over 
joyful  in  their  reunion.  It  was  evident  that  the  con- 
troversy between  them  in  regard  to  the  wedding  day 
was  becoming  more  and  more  serious.  Our  time  was 
employed  much  in  the  same  way  that  it  had  been 
during  our  former  visit.  On  the  fourth  day  after  our 
return  Bub  seemed  more  troubled  than  ever.  That 
day,  from  our  glowing  accounts  of  the  lower  cave, 
Mr.  Pardee,  and  Bub,  whose  school  was  now  closed, 
had  been  prevailed  upon  to  accompan}'  us  on  a  visit 
to  the  ''Conservatory  of  the  Gods."  Doubting 
whether  the  ladder  which  we  had  left  spanning  the 
"  Tourists' Bath  "  ten  years  before  was  still  intact, 
we  constructed  another  one.  Witli  considerable 
trouble  we  convej'^ed  it  to  the  lower  end  of  the  slant- 
ing passage,  only  to  find  our  way  completely  blocked 
by  a  mass  of  rock  and  stalactites.  We  now  remem- 
bered that  one  of  the  results  of  the  bolt  of  electricity 
from  Saturn  was  a  fall  in  the  lake  of  about  ten  feet.  This 
body  of  water  rushing  down  the  incline  had  swept 
everytliing  before  it,  piling  the  conservatory  full  of 
rubbish.  We  had  hard  work  now  to  make  Mr.  Pardee 
and  Bub  believe  that  there  had  ever  been  any  cavern 
beyond  the  passage. 

As  we  returned  home  Bub  and  I  (]ro])ped  Ijehind 


202  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

the  others,  and  he  improved  the  occasion  to  bring  out 
the  family  skeleton,  and  asked  my  advice  as  to  how  it 
should  be  dealt  with.  It  appeared  that  when  Bub 
came  liome  from  college  about  two  years  previous  to 
this  time,  he  had  been  installed  as  book-keeper  and 
financier  of  the  estate,  which  consisted  of  the  farm, 
several  tenement  houses  in  Denver,  some  mining  stock 
and  n^oney  in  bank.  Ht?  of  course  kept  account  of  all 
moneys  expended  and  received,  giving  checks  on  the 
Denver  National  Bank  to  the  members  of  the  family, 
when  they  desired  funds  for  their  own  use.  During 
the  hunting  days  of  his  poverty,  Mr.  Pardee  had  an 
old  crony  in  the  person  of  another  hunter.  Cart 
Doddwright,  who  lived,  or  existed,  with  his  family, 
much  as  the  Pardees  did,  about  two  miles  down  the 
river.  Mr.  Pardee,  wlx'u  he  made  liis  find,  had  gener- 
ously assisted  his  old  comrade  for  a,  year  or  so,  when 
Mrs.  Pardee  objec^ted,  on  the  ground  that  Mr.  Dodd- 
wright was  too  thriftless  to  deserve  help.  By  the  aid 
of  money  Mrs.  Pardee  had  become  a  paragon  of  in- 
dustry and  thrift,  and  had  ''no  kind  a  use  fur  a  man 
who  hunted  all  the  time  with  a  big  fa mil.y  to  support." 
Mr.  Pardee,  to  keep  peace  in  the  family,  had  pledged 
himself  not  to  give  another  penny  to  his  old  friend. 
The  Doddwrights,  however,  had  begun  to  prosper 
from  that  time,  and  continued  to  improve  their  for- 
tune, a.  neat  house,  good  stock,  and  well  tilled  farm 
being  the  most  noticeabli^  features  of  their  improved 
circumstances.  Since  Bub  had  been  at  the  head  of 
affairs  he  had  been  puzzled  at  the  fact  that  his  father 
had  repeatedly  drawn  sums  of  money  ranging  from 


A  FORTUNATE  ESCAPE.  203 

two  hundred  to  five  thousand  dollai-rf,  the  disposition 
of  which  was  a  complete  mystery  to  him.  He  was  still 
more  perplexed  at  his  father's  manner  when  he  applied 
for  checks.  He  seemed  ill  at  ease,  as  t]iou«;li  he  felt 
guilty  of  some  wrong-doing.  Mr.  Pardee  invariably 
departed  on  a  bear  hunt  immediately  after  cashing 
the  checks,  usually  at  the  store  at  the  station.  Bub 
worried  over  the  matter,  but  was  too  loyal  to  meddle 
with  his  father's  affairs.  The  day  following  our  de- 
parture for  the  retreat,  Bub  liad  accidentally  solved 
the  mystery— the  mone^'  went  to  pay  gand)ling  debts 
— his  father  was  a  gam  l)ler.  Cards  had  been  a  pastime 
in  the  Pardee  home,  but  not  so  much  as  a  pin  had  ever 
been  staked  on  the  game.  Mr.  Pardee  was  espeidally 
fond  of  cards,  and  his  evenings  at  home  were  usually 
spent  with  the  fascinating  little  pasteboards.  They 
had  not  dreamed  that  his  infatuation  with  the  game 
would  entice  him  into  gambling  until  the  day  Bub  had 
received  ocular  proof  of  it.  Riding  past  the  Dodd- 
wright  home  a  little  after  dark,  he  had  been  surprised 
to  see  his  father,  who  had  ostensibly'-  gone  on  a  hunt 
that  morning,  playing  cards  with  Mr.  Uoddwright  and 
two  other  men,  both  entire  strangers  to  Bub.  The 
four  were  in  an  upper  chamber,  a  lamp  burning 
brightly  on  the  table  around  which  they  sat.  To  get 
the  full  benefit  of  the  cool  night  air,  the  window  and 
blind  had  been  raised,  and  while  he  could  not  hear, 
Bub  had  seen  everything  that  took  place.  His  father 
and  one  of  the  strangers  were  playing  against  Mr. 
Doddwright  and  the  other  stranger.  The  latter,  he 
could  see,  "  were  getting  the  best  of  the  game."    Pies- 


204  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

ently  the  game  ended  and  Mr.  Pardee  had  taken  a 
large  roll  of  bills,  obtained  by  cashing  the  clicck  lUib 
had  given  him  that  morning,  and  handed  it  to  Mr. 
Doddwright.  A  little  later  the  party  strolled  out  to 
the  front  gate,  where  Bub  could  hear  tliem  talking. 
Just  as  his  father  was  leaving,  Mr.  Doddwright  had 
said  to  him:  ''Wall,  we  won  to-night,  but  perhaps 
you'll  have  better  luck  next  time.  Come  down  Satur- 
day night  and  we'll  have  'nother  game.''  Mr.  Pardee 
had  consented  and  said  something  about  bringing 
along  a  balance  of  two  hundred  dollars,  which  he  still 
owed  Mr.  Doddwright.  He  had  then  struck  out  bj^  a 
mountain  path  for  home.  After  the  others  had  le- 
turned  to  the  house,  Bub  had  ridden  on  almost 
heart-broken  at  his  discovery.  He  found  his  father 
at  home  when  he  arrived,  as  the  footpath  over  tlic 
mountain  was  much  the  shorter  route.  Mr.  Pardee 
had  seemed  unconcerned,  and  affected  high  humor. 
Almost  immediately  after  Bub  had  come  into  the 
room,  it  being  still  early  in  the  evening,  his  father  had 
bantered  him  for  a  game  of  euchre.  Bub  for  once 
had  refused,  with  a  show  of  ill  humor,  and  had  made 
some  demand  on  Rose  that  also  prevented  her  from 
employing  her  father  in  his  favorite  amusement.  Bub 
told  Rose  everything,  and  from  regarding  cards  as 
harmless,  they  had  come  to  look  upon  them  as  ex- 
tremely dangerous  and  hurtful.  They,  at  least,  would 
play  no  more,  and  this  it  was  that  had  driven  Mr. 
Pardee  into  such  ill-humored  silence,  for  as  yet  he  was 
all  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  his  children  knew  of 
his  vice.    Mrs.  Pardee  had  also  been  made  ac(]uainted 


A   FORTUNATE  ESCAPE.  205 

with  her  husband's  depravity.  On  any  minor  faults 
she  did  n(^t  hesitate  to  lecture  as  any  good  woman 
should,  but  the  very  enormity  of  this  sin  made  it  im- 
possible for  her  or  the  others  to  take  the  culprit  to 
task  for  it. 

It  was  evident  to  my  mind  that  the  two  strangers 
were  sharpers,  who,  in  connection  with  Mr.  Doddwright, 
were  fleecing  Mr.  Pardee.  1  suggested  that  we  at  once 
take  steps  to  ascertain  the  truth,  and  should  it  prove 
as  I  feared  the  next  step  would  be  to  have  the  '-gang 
pulled  "  for  confidence  men.  This  would  be  the  quick- 
est way  to  dispose  of  the  parasites  who  were  system- 
atically enticing  Mr.  Pardee  to  moral  and  financial 
ruin. 

That  evening  was  the  one  appointed  for  <' another 
game,"  and  Mr.  Pardee  had  prepared  for  it  by  having 
Bub  write  him  a  check  for  the  two  hundred  dollars  to 
be  paid  on  that  occasion.  Under  the  circumstances,  we 
determined  to  follow  Mr.  Pardee,  and  as  far  as  possi- 
ble keep  the  party  of  gamesters  under  our  espionage 
for  the  evening.  We  could  thus  determine  the  char- 
acter of  the  men  with  whom  he  was  playing,  and  act 
accordingly. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  when  we 
reached  the  house.  ^Ir.  Pardee  at  once  declared  his 
intention  ''to  take  a  httle  hunt,"  adding  that  "he 
would  probably  be  back  that  night,"  and  with  his  gun 
on  his  shoulder  sallied  forth.  Bub  and  I  withdrew  and 
followed  our  unsuspecting  profeg^  with  but  little 
trouble.  He  first  went  to  the  station,  probably  to 
cash  the  check.    He  remained  there  about  an  hour, 


206  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

talking  with  neighbors,  who  happened  to  be  at  the 
one  store  of  the  phice  for  trade  or  gossip.  Just  as  our 
patience  was  beginning  to  waver,  he  made  his  appear- 
ance and  started  down  the  road  leading  to  Mr.  Dodd- 
wright's.  We  followed  at  a  safe  distance.  A  walk  of 
a  little  more  than  a  mile  brought  us  to  our  destina- 
tion, about  sundown.  Bub  and  I  took  refuge  in  a 
little  clump  of  trees  at  one  side  of  the  road  and  but  a 
short  distance  from  the  grounds.  We  were  too  far 
away  to  hear  any  ordinary  tones  from  the  house,  still 
we  had  a  good  view  of  the  premises.  I  was  surprised 
at  the  beauty  and  order  of  the  place.  It  even  sur- 
passed the  Pardee  propert}^  in  the  extent  and  variety 
of  the  trees  and  shrubs  which  adorned  the  grounds.  In 
addition  to  a.  profusion  of  ornamental  trees  and 
flowering  plants,  several  acres  were  devoted  to  small 
fruit  culture,  which  seemed  to  be  in  a  high  state  of  cul- 
tivation. The  house  was  of  picturesque  design,  well 
planned  and  altogether  a  splendid  building.  There 
were  a  carriage  house,  barn,  and  sheds  in  keeping 
with  the  residence.  All  were  new,  as  the}^  had  just 
been  finished  a  few  weeks  before.  Bub  noticed  two 
new  features,  which  had  been  added  since  he  rode  past 
the  place  on  the  night  of  his  sad  discovery.  One  was 
a  clump  of  trees  of  about  two  years'  growth,  which 
had  been  transplanted  on  the  outskirts  of  the  grounds 
and  only  a  few  yards  from  the  grove  in  which  we  were 
concealed  ;  the  other  was  a  beautiful  fountain,  set  off 
with  a  few  pieces  of  fine  statuary.  A  spring,  far  up 
the  mountain,  fed  the  fountain,  the  waters  of  wliich 
were    now    sparkling    in    the    yellow    rays   of    the 


A  FORTUNATE  ESLAPK  207 

setting-    8un.      For  the  first  time  Bub  viewed  these 
beauties  with  anger  glowing  in  his  dark  eyes.     The 
realization  that  this  magnificenee  was  purchased  with 
money  which  the  wily  old  hunter  had  treacherously 
obtained  from  his  father  was  not  the  sole  cause  of  his 
ire,  nor  that  which  made  him  shake  his  clenched  hand 
at  the  three  confederates,  who  sat  on  the  veranda, 
lazily  smoking  cigars.    He  counted  it  at  the  cost  of 
his  father's  honor  and  manhood,  and  it  was  evident 
that  the  righteously  indignant  son  would  not  hesitate 
to  wreak  bodily  vengeance  on  the  offenders  if  the  law 
failed  to  avenge  his  father's  wrongs.    A  strange  fore- 
boding seized  me,  and  there  came  to  my  mind  a  picture 
of  this  splendid  young  man  just  entering  the  golden 
portal  of  manhood,  liimself  in  the  clutches  of  the  law, 
his  hands  dyed  with  the  blood    of   his   fellow-man. 
Something  prompted  me  to  flee  from  the  spot,  and  at 
all  hazards  to  take  Bub  with  me.    I  yielded  to  the  im- 
pulse and  begged  and  entreated  him  to  return  home 
at  once.    I  even  exerted  my  puny  strength  to  drag 
him  from  the  spot,  but  all  in  vain.    There  was  nothing 
to  do  but  to  stay,  and  with  a  strange  dread  at  my 
heart  I  yielded  to  the  inevitable. 

Mr.  Pardee  had  been  received  at  the  house  wdth  a  ■ 
great  shcjw  of  cordiality  by  the  three  men,  and  after  a 
few  minutes'  conversation,  Mr.  Dodchvright  locked 
arms  witli  him  in  a  very  affectionate  manner  and  the 
two  strolled  out  into  the  grounds.  Bub's  face  grew 
white  with  rage  at  this  act  of  fawning  treachery.  TheJI 
two  old  cronies  first  inspected  the  fountain  and  then 
came  down  to  the  clump  of  trees  which  had  lately  been 


208  THE  AURORAPUONE. 

added  to  the  miniature  forest.  They  halted  quite  near 
us  and  contemplated  the  trees. 

<' That's  "erbout  the  way  to  'range  them,"  the  old 
fox  was  saying  to  his  victim.  ''Got  things  in  purty 
gran'  style  I  calls  it.  A  little  better 'n  some  others  in  the 
neighborhood,  eh ?  "  and  he  chuckled  with  unmistak- 
able gloating  and  triumph.  A  sharp  clicking  sound 
broke  the  stillness,  and  I  looked  around  to  see  Bub 
raising  a  cocked  revolver  pointing  directly  at  the 
elated  Doddwright.  Just  at  that  instant  Mr.  Pardee 
stepped  between  Bub  and  his  intended  victim. 

''Yes,"  Mr.  Pardee  answered,  standing  so  as  to 
shield  his  companion  from  harm,  "you're  a  trump, 
Cart,  you  just  air  an'  no  mistake.  I  never  could  get 
along  without  you,  ole  pard.  Wife  thought  you  was 
no  'count,  and  wouldn't  work  and  got  offish  and  set 
agin  you.  But  you  didn't  have  nothin'  to  work  with, 
and  it  takes  money  to  get  us  out  of  the  ole  ruts  that 
poverty  chucks  us  inter.  You've  just  amazed  me 
since  you  got  ter  goin'.  I  mus'  say  that  you  and  your 
ole  woman  just  knock  the  spots  off  of  Betsy  herself, 
and  that's  puttin'  it  hard.  It's  been  a  pile  of  trouble, 
but  it's  worth  it  all  and  more  too.  Youngsters  think 
if  they've  got  plenty  of  'mon'  they  can  get  a  place 
made  to  order  just  to  suit  'em,  and  I  spoze  they  can 
sometimes.  But  I  sot  about  years  ago  to  fix  up 
places  that  would  persuade  the  children  to  stay  near 
me  and  the  ole  woman,  and  I  do  believe  we've  done  it. 
Bub'l  be  gittin'  married  soon,  and  won't  this  just 
make  him  a  dandy  weddin'  present?  I  wish  I  could 
tote  it  in,  house,  trees,  fountain  and  all,  and  set  'em 


A  FORTUNATE  ESCAPE.  209 

down  on  the  center  table.  It  would  just  everlastingly 
squash  the  other  presents,  wouldn't  it?  Then  I'd 
make  'em  a  presenting  speech.  I'd  say,  '  Young  man, 
you've  got  too  hifalutin  to  play  keerds  with  yer  igno- 
rant ole  pap,  but,  bless  yer  soul,  I  ain't  been  too  proud 
to  look  arter  yer  interests,  and  here's  a  place  what 
you  couldn't  produce  its  ekal  in  ten  years.  There's 
strawberries  and  blac^kberries  and  everything  else  that 
can  be  made  to  grow  in  this  climate.  You  can  go  into 
that  cute  little  barn  there  and  milk  that  darlin'  little 
Jersey  cow  and  just  live  on  strawberries  and  cream, 
and  honeymoon  till  you  get  tired.'  It  would  surprise 
'em,  it  shurely  would.  No  one  knows  as  this  is  my 
place.  I  ain't  even  had  the  deed  recorded,  for  fear  it 
would  leak  out.  You  could  just  do  me  up  big  if  you 
was  a  mind  to,  and  I  couldn't  kick  much  if  you  did. 
Y^ou've  done  all  the  hard  work  and  managin'  and  I've 
just  put  up  the  'mon,'  which  come  as  easy  as  nothin', 
and  then  you've  looked  arter  the  Andrews  place  that's 
to  be  Rose's  weddin'  present." 

"Yes,  and  I'll  tell  you  what's  the  matter,"  broke 
in  Mr.  Doddwright.  "Rose  and  Bub  must  both  get  mar- 
ried to  once,  and  at  your  house,  one  of  them  double 
weddins'  we've  hearn  about.  And  when  all  the  people 
are  congregated  and  wondering  where's  the  bride's 
Honorable  Pap  and  his  Gran'  Vizer,  that's  me,  here 
we'll  come,  me  a  packing  Rose's  place,  and  you  a  pack- 
ing Bub's,  with  the  houses  and  trees,  and  barns  and 
cows  and  all,  and  a  big  Newfoundland  dog  like  Rose 
likes  a  layin'  on  a  rich  rug  on  her  porch,  and  a  set- 
ter, that  Bub  likes,  a  settin'  on  his  porch.    In  we'll 

14 


210  THE  AIROUAPHONE. 

walk  a  totin'  our  splendiferous  presents,  and  every- 
body will  say,  oh!  and  the  children  will  clap  their 
hands,  and  the  dogs  will  begin  to  bark  and  both 
cows  will  bawl  like  everything,  and  such  another  swell 
weddin'  never  will  be  heard  of."  Here  they  both 
laughed  heartily  at  the  conceit,  and  started  back  to 
the  house." 

And  now  Bub  applied  his  "  golden-portaled  "  man- 
hood to  the  task  of  dragging  me  from  the  spot,  with 
the  result  that  I  was  carried  some  distance  up  the 
road  over  which  we  had  lately  come.  His  emotions 
can  better  be  imagined  than  told.  He  had  wronged 
his  father  in  thought,  and  had  almost  meanly  spied 
out  his  most  carefully  guarded  secret.  Instead  of  go- 
ing to  pay  gambling  debts,  the  sums  of  money  which 
had  so  worried  Bub  were  being  carefully  expended  for 
his  own  benefit.  It  had,  no  doubt,  been  the  purchase 
money  for  the  fountain  that  Mr.  Pardee  had  given  to 
his  old  friend  at  the  close  of  a  social  game  of  cards, 
in  which  the  two  arch  plotters  often  indulged.  Bub's 
remorse  was  keen  as  he  thought  of  his  own  suspicions, 
and  that  he  had  even  persuaded  Kose  and  his  mother 
to  share  them.  The  tears  streamed  from  the  big  fel- 
low's eyes  as  he  bitterly  accused  himself  of  ingratitude 
and  meddlesomeness.  My  sympathy,  however,  was 
with  the  two  old  cronies,  and  1  was  still  laughing  at 
the  picture  of  the  unique  wedding  that  was  brewing, 
and  hoping  that  it  would  be  my  good  fortune  to  be 
present  when  the  fatlier  and  his  (Jrand  Vizier  brought 
in  the  two  sections  of  mountain  laud  and  the  appur- 
tenances thereunto  belonging,  and  deposited  them  on 


.1  FOiili.y\/rE  ESCAPE.  211 

i  lie  center  table.  But  1  soon  sobered  up  at  the  thought 
of  how  near  to  murder  we  had  been.  But  for  Mr. 
Pardee's  fortunate  change  of  position,  that  cahn  suni- 
iner  day  would  have  ended  in  a,  terrible  tragedy.  Was 
it  by  accident  tluit  tiie  timely  step  was  taken  ?  Surely 
not,  in  a  universe  governed  by  law.  Nor  could  it  have 
neon  providential.  Providence  had  not  stepped  in  to 
save  hundreds  of  other  innocent  victims  who  had  been 
killed  through  mistake.  It  was  strange  to  think  that 
in  the  remote  past  matter  so  arranged  itself  that 
through  a  chain  of  cause  and  effect  extending  through 
millions  of  years,  and  over  a  mighty  expanse,  the  ex- 
act amount  of  force  was  directed  to  that  exact  spot 
and  impelled  Mr.  Pardee  to  take  that  fortunate  step— 
a  force  manifesting  itself  in  the  imperceptible  motive 
that  influenced  his  action.  And  so,  I  thought,  are  all 
actions  determined  by  natural  forces  manifested  as  the 
stronger  motive  that  impels  us  to  act.  It  was  deter- 
mined millions  of  years  ago,  by  some  little  swirl  of 
atoms,  just  how  we  shall  act  from  moment  to  moment. 
How,  then,  could  I  attach  any  moral  quality  to  con- 
duct? Mr.  Pardee's  step  was  of  that  class  of  occur- 
rences which  are  termed  accidents,  and  I  could  not  call 
it  good  or  bad.  At  bottom.  Bub  Jiad  no  desire  to  kill 
Mr.  Doddwright,  and,  except  for  a  chain  of  accidents, 
would  never  have  been  prompted  to,  and  yet,  but  for 
that  one  step,  his  nnerring  aim  would  have  made  him 
a  murderer.  We  should  call  it  murder  in  either  case, 
as  the  intent  was  to  kill.  But  the  facts  would  be- 
come known,  and  yet  Bub  would  not  be  arrested  and 
arraigned  for  nmrder.    No,  the  world  would  say,  prac- 


212  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

tically,  that  it  was  accidental,  and  not  hold  hiui  re- 
sponsible. Had  he  killed  Mr.  Doddwright,  it  would 
have  been  no  less  accidental,  and  yet  the  world  woukl 
now  hold  Bub  responsible,  and  demand  the  forfeit  of 
his  Hfe.  And  what  if  the  world  tioes  demand  the  Hfe  (jf 
the  murderer?  It  is  a  poor  rule  that  will  not  work 
both  ways.  If  all  actions  are  predetei-mined,  then  that 
act  whereby  society  executes  the  criminal  is  also  pre- 
determined, axid  no  one  can  find  fault  with  it.  It  is  by 
setting  up  a  principle  and  carrying  it  only  half  out  that 
the  confusion  arises  about  free  will  and  necessity. 
Those  peculiar  motions  of  matter  which  occurred  so 
long  ago,  giving  rise  to  motives,  are  the  safeguards  of 
society  to-day.  The  antecedents  of  hunger  are,  no 
doubt,  traceable  to  the  beginning  of  the  present  cycle, 
and  hunger  itself,  perhaps,  supplies  stronger  motives 
to  action  than  all  else  besides.  Shall  I  sit  down  then 
and  say,  "  that  as  everything  is  predetermined  I  need 
not  try  to  get  anything  to  eat ;  it  will  be  Just  so  any- 
way." My  half  allegiance  to  the  principle  makes  the 
trouble.  It  is  more  pleasant  and  practical  to  accept 
the  principle  in  full,  and  to  perceive  that  it  is  equally 
predetermined  that  I  shall  make  the  necessary  exer- 
tions to  procure  food  and  enjoy  it.  Society  says  that 
people  are  governed  by  motives,  and  forthwith  begins 
to  create  motives  by  promises  of  protection  in  right 
doing,  and  threats  of  punishment  for  wrong  doing.  It 
was  determined  ages  agf)  that  society  should  create 
these  very  motives,  and  that  they  should  operate  to 
prevent  crime  and  encourage  virtue.  The  doomed 
criminal  may  hold  out  his  manacled  hands  and  implore 


A  FORTUyATE  ESCAPE.  218 

mercy  on  the  ground  that  he  is  governed  by  iron  law, 
is  therefore  irresi)onsibh^,  and  t-ould  not  have  avoided 
doing  the  crime  for  whicli  his  life  is  demanded  as  the  pen- 
alty.   The  culprit  is  Avillingto  admit  tlie  principle  only 
so  long  as  it  serves  his  purpose.    Society  does  but 
carry  out  the  man's  logic  to  its  legitimate  results  when 
it  says,  ''neither  can  we  help  what  we  are  doing,"  and 
springs  the  droj).    Society  is  governed  by  thestronger 
motive,  that  of  protection,  and  acts  of  necessity  in 
disposing  of  the  murderer.    It  has  the  end  of  self-pro- 
tection in  view,  and  puts  the  criminal  out  of  the  way 
to  secure  that  end.    But  is  this  self-i)rotection  ?    Does 
it  secure  the  end  in  view?    When  we  think,  that  in 
hurling  the  criminal  into  eternity  we  areactually  hurl- 
ing ourselves,  eventually,  into  tlie  same  place,  we  may 
question  whether  capital  punishment  serves  the  pur- 
pose for  which  it  is  intended.    By  the  permutation  of 
personality  we  must  all  stand  in  thec-riminal'sshoe'iat 
some  period  of  our  existence.    Protection,  for  the  time 
being,  might  be  secured  by  tlie  prompt  execution  of 
the  wrong  doer,  but  we  bring  upon  ourselves  a  more 
terrible  fate  than  that  which  we  feared  at  the  hands  of 
the  criminal  classes.    Bub's  object  in  raising  his  re- 
volver was  to  mete  out  punishment,  but  had  he  car- 
ried out  his  intent,  how  much  greater  punishment  he 
would  have  brought  upon  himself,  and  others !    It  was 
his  duty  to  have  remembered  that  the  proper  way  to 
inflict  punisliment  in  this  case  was  through  the  law. 
What  a  protection  to  himself  was  the  law  at  that  time, 
had  his  respect  for  it  been  the  stronger  motive !    And 
perhaps  there  is  a  better,  a  more  humane,  a  far  more 


214  THE  AVRORAPHOXF. 

effective  method  to  protect  society  from  criminals  than 
that  of  capital  pimishment.  Regard  for  our  future 
welfare  may  constitute  a  stronger  motive  than  the  de- 
sire for  immediate  protection,  and  lead  us  to  the  dis- 
covery of  some  more  thorough  means  of  protection. 
We  may  Hnd  tliat  society,  like  Bub,  is  mistaken,  and 
that  its  own  defects  of  constitution  give  rise  to  that 
criminal  class  from  which  it  is  at  any  moment  liable 
to  suffer.  Perhaps  a  grand  industrial  army  like  that 
of  the  people  of  Saturn,  based  as  it  is  on  justice 
and  equality,  would  afford  far  better  protection  than 
the  most  rigorous  penal  code. 

Lost  in  reflection,  we  walked  back  to  the  farm  in 
silence.  Bub  lost  no  time  in  placing  his  father  right 
with  his  mother  and  Hose,  though  he  was  careful  n(^t 
to  reveal  his  secret.  Mr.  Pardee  evidently  had  tlie 
welfare  of  his  *'  old  pard"  at  heart  in  his  schemes,  and 
employing  Mr.  Doddwright  to  work  and  manage  the 
two  places,  intended  for  his  children,  he  deemed  no 
breach  of  confidence.  He  was  only  heljiing  his  old 
friend  to  help  himself,  and  Mr.  Doddwriglit  had  labored 
hard  and  faithfully,  as  much  for  friendship's  sake  as  for 
the  liberal  wages  he  received. 

Mr.  Pardee  returned  early  in  the  evening,  and  the 
domestic  and  social  atmosphere  resumed  its  wonted 
temperature.  Jim  was  in  no  wisi'  prejudiced  against 
cards,  and  he  and  Rose  soon  had  Bub  and  Mr.  Pardee, 
greatly  to  the  delight  of  tlie  latter,  pitted  against  them 
in  a  game  of  "High-five."  Mel,  who  was  opposed  to 
cards,  and  I,  who  was  opposed  to  Rose,  did  not  play. 
Th;it   niglit,  leaving  the  students  deep  in  a  polemical 


A  FORTUNATE  ESCAPE.  215 

discussion,  my  cousin  and  I  betook  ourselves  for  a 
stroll  on  the  veranda,  and  arm  in  arm  engaged  in  a 
good  natured  critic-ism  of  each  other's  foibles.  I  took 
him  to  task  for  his  absurdly  high  sense  of  obligation 
to  his  patients,  and  he  replied  that  I  held  more  absurd 
ideas  about  marriage.  ' '  In  making  a  celibate  of  your- 
self," he  said,  ''for  fear  of  transmitting  disease,  you 
are  downright  foolish.  Yours  is  not  hereditary  con- 
sumption, and  in  the  pure,  bracing  atmosphere  of  the 
mountains  it  is  not  consumption  at  all.  You  would 
have  been  a  well  man  to-day  if  you  had  remained 
in  Colorado  instead  of  going  to  a  lower  altitude. 
Such  recklessness  ought  to  bring  you  to  your  present 
condition." 

"You  are  certainly  as  careless  of  your  own  health," 
I  answered,  "in  settling  down  to  the  hard,  incessant 
drudgeiy  which  you  contemplate,  and  which  bids  fair 
to  interfere  very  seriously  with  your  matrimonial  pros- 
pects. Your  punctilious  regard  for  the  rights  of  your 
patients  will  make  a  celibate  of  you  yet.  The  close 
attention  to  business  which  you  propose  will  surely 
undermine  your  health  and  cut  short  your  usefulness. 
All  work  and  no  play  will  result  no  better  now  than  in 
the  past.  Take  my  advice  and  get  your  practice  nicely 
established,  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  take  a  vacation 
of  a  few  months,  get  married  and  enjoy  your  wedding 
trij)  like  a  rational  man.  No  reasonable  patient  could 
object  to  his  doctor  going  away  on  a  wedding  tour 
even  if  he  died  tlirough  his  absence.  Marriage  must 
necessarily  take  precedence  over  death  any  way,  and 
you  and  Rose  will  be  much  happier  if  you  will  take  a 


216  THE  AUnoRAPHONE. 

common  sense  view  of  the  matter  and  act  accord- 
ingly. Granting  that  my  views  of  marriage,  as  it  con- 
cerns myseh,  are  as  absurd  as  yours  in  regard  to  a  phy- 
sician's obligations,  still  there  is  nothing  at  stake  in 
my  case,  while  your  own  and  Rose's  happiness  may  be 
wrecked  forever  if  you  persist  in  your  high-pressure 
sense  of  duty." 

It  nettled  me  somewhat  to  think  that  these  two 
could  not  be  reasonable,  and  for  once  make  the  course 
of  true  love  run  smoothly.  According  to  my  views,  it 
would  save  every  being  in  existence  a  great  deal  of 
unnecessary  trouble  and  pain  if  they  would  compro- 
mise the  matter  some  way,  and  begin  to  enjoy  the 
sweets  of  what  should  be  a  very  enjoyable  courtship. 
My  theory  of  existence  made  me  personall}^  interested 
in  the  happiness  of  these  two,  and  I  felt  justified  in  try- 
ing to  forward  it  to  the  extent  of  offering  good  advice 
at  least.  I  felt  that  my  cousin  was  more  to  blame  than 
Rose.  I  could  but  respect  her  for  not  wanting  to 
rush  into  matrimony  with  the  precipitancy  that  j\Iel 
demanded,  and  yet  it  seemed  that  she  ought  to  acqui- 
esce in  his  wishes,  considering  the  high  motives  that 
gave  rise  to  them.  At  heart,  I  did  respect  Mel's  mo- 
tives, and  yet  I  thought  he  might  lower  their  standard 
a  little,  without  hurt  to  himself  or  others. 

We  had  subsided  into  silence,  though  we  continued 
our  walk.  1  was  thinking  that  I  ought  not  to  be  wor- 
rying over  their  troubles— that  I  had  plenty  of  my 
own  to  employ  myself,  if  I  must  worry.  I  almost  re- 
gretted having  made  this  last  visit.  My  unhappy  pas- 
sion for  Rose  was  much  harder  to  subdue  by  my  being 


A  FORTUNATE  ESCAPE.  217 

thrown  daily  into  her  society.  True,  we  never  con- 
versed with  each  other,  but  even  the  sight  of  her  made 
it  more  difficult  to  keep  her  out  of  mind.  On  our 
return  to  the  retreat,  I  for  one  should  remain  there  un- 
til we  were  ready  to  depart  for  home— for  Kansas, 
bright,  sunny  Kansas.  With  all  its  drawbacks  of 
drouths,  sand  storms,  hot  winds,  and  booms,  Kansas 
had  a  warm  place  in  my  heart.  There  I  had  seen  more 
bright,  sunsliiny  days,  more  pleasant  summers  and 
milder  winters,  than  anywhere  else  it  had  been  my  lot 
to  live,  and  I  had  experimented  with  the  climate  of 
every  state  north  of  the  36th  parallel,  from  the  Atlan- 
tic coast  to  the  Kocky  Mountains.  I  was  not  home- 
sick, but  I  should  have  been  content  to  start  for  the 
Sunflower  State  at  any  moment. 

Mel  and  1  had  been  walking  up  and  down  the  long 
veranda  for  some  time  in  silence.  Presently  the  game 
of  cards  ended,  and  Rose  began  to  sing  and  play,  and 
we  joined  those  inside.  Rose  confined  herself  to  the 
songs  and  pieces  that  her  father  preferred.  This,  after 
cards,  was  the  most  effective  way  to  make  amends  for 
her  unjust  suspicions  of  the  past  week.  Just  before 
parting  for  the  night,  Bub  had  asked  his  father  about 
the  two  strangers  who  were  visiting  Mr.  Doddwright, 
and  learned  that  they  were  cousins  of  the  latter,  and 
good  honest  farmers  from  Dakota. 

But  while  the  social  atmosphere  had  resumed  its 
normal  condition,  all  was  not  clear  yet.  My  lecture 
to  Mel  had  had  no  apparent  effect,  and  he  and  Rose, 
to  judge  from  appearances,  were  no  nearer  a  settle- 
ment of  their  differences.    The  day  before  the  one  set 


218  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

for  our  departure  for  the  Retreat,  I  was  out  with  Bub 
prospecting  for  a  spring-  that  might  be  made  to  feed  a 
fountain  on  the  home  grounds,  as  he  had  become 
ambitious  of  outdoing  "  some  others  in  the  neighbor- 
hood" in  that  line.  We  had  been  successful  in  our 
search,  and  were  returning  late  in  the  day.  When  near 
home  we  had  met  Mel,  strolling  about  looking  vexed 
and  morose.  A  little  farther  on  we  had  come  upon 
Rose,  seated  in  an  arbor,  which  had  developed  from 
the  children's  first  play-house  to  a  cool  and  elegant 
structure  of  rustic  design.  It  was  an  inviting  retreat, 
where  the  two  grown-up  children  invariably  betook 
themselves  on  hot  summer  days  to  read  or  write.  Rose, 
however,  was  neither  reading  nor  writing,  but  crying. 
We  hurried  past,  hoping  to  give  the  impression  that 
we  had  not  seen  her.  When  at  a  safe  distance,  Bub  ex- 
plained that  Rose  was  still  grieving  over  their  unjust 
suspicions  of  their  father.  Perhaps  Bub  thought  that 
he  had  divined  the  cause  of  Rose's  trouble,  but  I  knew 
that  her  tears  were  but  the  obverse  of  Mel's  gloom  and 
depression. 

Arrived  at  the  house,  we  found  Pete  on  hand  with 
the  big  wagon,  to  take  us  to  the  Retreat  next  day. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    LAST    MESSAGE. 

Morning  in  the  mountains.  Deliciously  cool  and 
exhilarating  was  the  atmosphere,  as  the  orb  of  day — 
ancient  God  of  the  Creetans— shot  his  golden  barbs 
over  the  snowy  range,  gilding  its  sinuous  crest  until  it 
glistened  like  a  great  fiery  serpent — a  monster  demon, 
waiting  to  contest  the  rights  of  deityship  with  the 
coming  Sun-God.  From  an  open  window,  looking  out 
through  a  gap  in  the  mountains  to  the  distant  scene  of 
conflict,  I  watched  the  struggle.  As  the  blazing  cham- 
pion of  light  reared  himself  to  hurl  his  gleaming  darts 
more  directly  into  the  huge  dragon,  the  latter  twined 
itself  along  past  diaphanous  clouds  of  vapor,  which 
it  exhaled  in  its  writhings.  Gaining  advantage  by 
ascent,  the  radiant  God  showered  his  burning  shafts 
upon  the  struggling  monster,  driving  it  to  the  south, 
so  enveloped  in  its  own  exhalations  that  only  now  and 
then  its  burnished  scales  emitted  malignant  flashes 
of  light.  The  opalescent  mists  proved  to  be  its  wind- 
ing sheet.  Gently  the  south  wind  turned  back  the  sil- 
very shroud,  disclosing  the  dead  monster,  cold  and 
white,  reclining  in  tortuous  curves  on  its  vast  cata- 
falco,  its  lurid  fires  regenerated  into  dazzling  purit3'^ 
by  the  conquering  God.    The  wind  soughing  through 

the  trees  chanted  a  requiem  for  the  dead ;  the  soft  air 

219 


220  THE  AlluniAriiOSE. 

fragrant  wiili  the  breath  of  pines  and  t lie  perfume  of 
flowers,  sent  up  grateful  incense  to  the  victorious 
Deity,  while  hundreds  of  sweet-thi'oatc^d  warblers  sang 
his  praise. 

An  liour  later,  I  had  again  preceded  my  comrades 
to  the  big  wagon,  though  Rose  had  not  accompanied 
me  to  the  gate,  as  before  It  was  Mel  she  shook  hands 
with,  and  so  friendly  was  their  parting,  that tlie obser- 
vant Pete  had  no  boasts  to  make  about  liis  knowledge 
of  sentiments. 

Our  trip  up  the  mountain  was  accomplished  without 
incident.  Mr.  Lesage  was  so  pleased  to  see  us,  so  warm 
in  his  greeting,  that  it  occurred  to  me  that  we  were  not 
showing  him  the  consideration  which  we  should,  in 
"packhig  off"  to  the  Pardeesso  much.  Hisentertain- 
mentwas  all  that  we  could  ask.  He  it  was  who  had  in- 
vited us  to  partake  of  his  hospitality,  while  we  were  en- 
joying the  mountain  air  and  scenery.  I,  at  least,  should 
prove  more  grateful  in  the  future,  and  do  all  within  my 
power  to  cheer  and  interest  this  lonely  old  man,  so  mild 
and  sweet  tempered.  My  ponchant  for  chess  was  mj'' 
bL'st  qualification  for  contributing  to  our  kind  host's 
enjoyment.  It  was  but  seldom  that  1  won  a  game,  and 
my  victories  were  hard  earned  unless,  indeed,  I  received 
help  from  Mr.  Smith,  our  Saturnian  friend.  We  voted 
Mr.  Smith  a  jolly  good  fellow,  and  witliout  any  good 
reason,  liked  him  better  than  poor  Mr.  Bozar,  whom 
the  dummies,  no  doubt,  had  as  completely  pulverized 
as  he  had  pulverized  our  orchestra.  If  we  felt  a  little 
jubilant  over  this,  we  checked  the  emotion  in  its  in- 
cipient stage ;  for  could  not  the  people  of  Saturn  read 


THE  LAST  MESSAGE.  221 

our  very  thoughts,  and  what  might  we  not  bring  down 
on  ourselves  by  such  uncharitable  feelings? 

Mr.  Smith  proved  himself  worthy  of  ourgood  opin- 
ions. On  the  first  evening  after  our  arrival  he  hailed 
us  through  the  auroraphone,  stating  that  the  people 
of  Saturn  were  having  a  great  jubilee  over  the  fact 
that  they  had  that  day  established  plano-electrophonic 
communications  with  Neptune,  this  being  the  first  inter- 
change of  intelligence  between  the  two  grand  plan<'ts. 
One  feature  of  the  celebration  was  a  grand  display  of 
electrical  fireworks,  and  Mr.  Smith  proposed  to  enter- 
tain us  a  while  with  a  sample  of  their  art  by  means  of 
the  electrical  currents.  At  this  we  all  arose  precipi- 
tately to  object.  We  had  sampled  their  electricity 
once  before,  and  had  no  desire  to  repeat  the  experience. 
We  were  told,  however,  by  the  considerate  Mr.  Smith 
to  direct  our  attention  to  a  point  about  a  mile  distant, 
and  then  for  twenty  minutes  the  whole  world  seemed 
turned  into  a  pyrotechnical  display.  We  were  then  told 
to  call  for  the  reproduction  of  any  phenomenon  that 
we  wished  to  see,  as  from  the  fact  that  every  earthly 
event  of  importance  had  been  noted,  and  by  means  of 
their  wonderful  instruments,  preserved  for  future  repro- 
duction, much  on  the  same  plan  that  our  phonograph 
reproduces  sounds.  They  had  but  to  move  the  index 
hand  of  the  Electro-Camera-Lucida-Motophone,  so 
that  it  pointed  to  the  name  of  the  event  to  be  repro- 
duced, tnen  turn  a  crank,  and  tlie  scene  appeared  at 
any  point  they  designated,  this  being  done  by  other 
adjustments. 

We  first  asked  to  see  the  destruction  of  Pompeii, 


222  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

with  but  little  conficlence  in  tlie  result,  notwithstand- 
ing all  that  we  had  seen  and  heard.  Ten  minutes  later 
there  lay  before  us  mighty  Vesuvius,  tlio  country  sur- 
roundinji",  and  the  b<'autiful  city,  peacefully  nestling  in 
vine-clad  liills,  all  unconscious  of  its  approachinir  doom. 
We  were  no  longer  incredulous,  and  we  realized  that  we 
were  about  to  witness  a  scene  of  terror  and  suffering, 
in  which  we  ourselves  must  eventually  participate.  Tlio 
first  indication  of  the  eruption  was  a  trembling  of  the 
ground  on  which  we  stood,  followed  by  a  swaying  mo- 
tion, accompanied  by  low  deep  grumblings  like  distant 
thunder.  The  waters  of  the  bay  heaved  and  surged  as 
if  stirred  by  some  monster  leviathan  of  the  deep,  while 
the  silvery  waters  of  the  river  Sarnus  tossed  about, 
evidently  to  the  consternation  of  many  boatmen,  who 
were  rowing  their  crafts  on  the  troubled  stream.  Sud- 
denly a  great  volume  of  smoke  and  lurid  flames  were 
belched  forth  from  the  volcano.  Dazzling  flashes  of 
lightning  pierced  the  inky  mass,  and  terrific  peals  of 
thunder  added  to  the  horrors  of  the  appalling,  yet 
grand  scene.  W(^  had  just  time  to  see  the  confusion 
and  terror  of  the  people,  when  the  cloud  of  smoke  and 
ashes  settled  over  the  doomed  city.  A  moment  later 
the  scene  disappeared. 

Mr.  Lesage  now  auroraphoned  Mr.  Smith  for  the 
Chicago  fire.  In  due  time  a  great  black  cloud  appeared. 
From  out  the  dense  blackness  myriads  of  lights  twinkled 
and  glowed.  One  of  the&(^  lights  seemed  brighter  than 
the  others,  and  grew  in  intensity,  finally  revealing  the 
interior  of  a  shed,  in  which  stood  a  cow,  hungrily 
munching  a  bran  mash.    The  light  proceeded  from  a 


Tin:  LAST  MESSAGE.  223 

lantern  which  stood  on  the  ground  a,  little  to  the  rear 
of  the  cow.  A  woman  was  milking  the  docile  animal, 
which,  however,  as  soon  as  the  mash  was  devoured, 
struck  out  with  her  right  hind  leg,  kicking  the  lantern 
over,  which  ignited  the  straw  that  littered  the  floor. 
The  tlames  spread  with  incredible  speed,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment the  whole  city  seemed  in  flames.  The  people  and 
firemen  with  engines  moved  about  in  a  confused  mass, 
while  a  babel  of  indistinguishable  sounds  reached  our 
ears.  The  man  in  Saturn,  no  doubt,  was  turning  the 
crank  of  the  "  'phone"  with  all  his  might,  and  so  de- 
veloped the  fire  much  more  rapidly  than  it  actually  oc- 
curred. The  flames  lit  up  the  city,  revealing  all  the 
horrors  of  that  dire  calamity,  and  we  stood  dismayed 
at  the  terrible  experiences  through  which  we  ourselves 
were  destined  to  pass.  But  these  peo]3le  before  us  had 
to  suffer  it,  and  why  not  we?  Owing  to  the  energy  of 
the  man  at  the  crank  the  whole  scene  was  turned  out  in 
fifteen  minutes,  and  the  fire  subdued.  At  Jim's  request 
the  Battle  of  Gettysburg  followed  the  fire.  It  was  all 
the  more  striking  from  the  rapidity  with  which  the  en- 
gagement progressed.  Couriers  rode  to  and  fro  at  a 
tremendous  gait.  Infantry  rushed  at  each  other  with 
indescribable  fury.  Batteries  galloped  to  the  front  as 
if  shot  from  a  catapult.  Cavalry  charged  with  fright- 
ful velocity,  and  stopped  so  abruptly  that  by  all  the 
laws  of  dynamics  the  riders  should  have  been  precip- 
itated miles  to  the  rear  of  the  enemy.  Cannon  thun- 
dered, shells  shrieked,  artillery  roared,  all  with  such 
mad  des])eratioa  and  t  rrific  haste,  that  within  twenty- 
three  minutes  the  Confederates  were  retreating  back  to 


224  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

Virginia,  and  the  "backbonu  of  tlio  rebolliou  was 
broken."  11  was  evident  that  the  man  at  the  crank 
did  not  propose  to  have  any  "monkeying"  while  the 
Union  was  in  danger. 

Satiated  with  these  harrowing  scenes  we  called  lor 
something  that  Avould  show  the  pleasant  side  uf  life, 
and  instead  of  ixny  grand  spectacle,  as  we  expected, 
th(?re  passed  before  onr  view  a  succession  of  minor 
events,  in  Avhich  smiling  faces,  kindly  deeds,  cheerful 
words,  friendly  han.d-shakes,  children  at  play,  sparkling 
streams  and  pleasant  groves,  were  the  principal  fea- 
tures. 

Our  distant  friend  now  explained  that  his  assistant 
at  the  crank  had  been  so  anxious  to  get  away  to  join 
in  the  festivities  of  the  celebration,  that  he  had  excused 
him,  and  that  there  would  be  no  further  displays  that 
evening.  Giving  three  lusty  cheers  for  Mr.  Smith,  of 
Saturn,  which  we  hoped  he  might  hear,  we  tendered 
him  a  vote  of  thanks,  by  auroraphone,  for  thesplendid 
entertainment,  and  asked  for  further  information  in 
regard  to  the  people  of  Neptune. 

"There  is  not  much,"  he  responded,  "that  eanbeof 
interest  to  the  people  of  earth,  though  much  that  is  of 
great  importance  to  ourselves."  We  were  rejoiced  to 
learn  that  their  government  is  similar  to  our  own, 
founded  on  the  grand  industrial  army  system,  which 
grows  better  by  long  usage.  Founded  as  it  is  on  justice 
and  equalit}',  it  can  never  wear  out.  For  thousands 
of  years  it  has  brought  them  universal  prosperity  and 
peace,  and  the  highest  enjo^^ment  of  life.  It  is  no 
longer  a  matter  of  experiment  with  them,  but  a  grand 


THIJ  LAST  MESSAGE.  225 

and  glorious  success.  The  evolution  of  deity  is  the 
solution  of  the  mystery  of  existence,  as  tested  by  their 
superior  advantages  of  knowing.  The  permutation  of 
personality  has  been  so  long  a  matter  of  knowledge 
with  them,  and  is  in  every  way  so  consistent  with  re- 
ligion and  morality,  so  self-evidently  the  result  of  the 
conservation  and  equivalence  of  forces,  that  it  is  a  mat- 
ter of  great  difficulty  to  make  them  believe  that  there 
are  yet  intelligent  civilized  beings  who  doubt  it. 

"We  ourselves  have  seen  in  the  evolution  of  the 
Cosmos  the  process  of  deity-creation.  We  have  recog- 
nized that  the  minute  organisms,  contributing  little  by 
little  to  higher  organisms  until  man  is  reached,  have 
been  carrying  on  this  process.  Through  the  organiza- 
tion of  men  into  nations,  the  process  is  carried  still 
further,  history  being  the  vehicle  for  the  transmission 
of  organized  experience  of  a  national  character.  The 
organization  of  all  nations  into  one  great  nation,  such 
as  has  been  consummated  in  Neptune,  by  furnishing 
richer  experiences  to  transmit,  furthers  the  process. 
And  now,  the  Neptunians  speak  of  a  confederation  of 
planets,  which  becomes  possible  by  means  of  inter- 
planetary communications,  and  which  will  contribute 
in  a  still  greater  degree  to  the  main  process.  No  doubt 
that  out  of  these  world-relations  many  wars  will  re- 
sult, and  great  battles  be  fought  by  contending  planets. 
Thus  a  wonderful  stimulus  and  expansion  will  be  given 
to  intellectual  activity,  in  ])lanning  offensive  and  d(3- 
fensive operations,  in  forming  interplanetary  laws,  and 
in  devising  great  planetary  fairs  to  which  innumerable 
worlds  shall  contribute,  and  so  another  advance  be 

16 


22G  THE  AUROPAPHONE, 

made  toward  the  final  cosmical  intelligence.  Tlio  \ep- 
tunians  also  find  it  difficult  to  believe  that  there  are 
those  who,  knowing  that  intelligence  has  been  evolved, 
yet  believe  it  stops  with  man,  and  are  unable  to  see 
that  just  as  the  embr^^onic  processes  go  on  to  the  de- 
velopment of  the  full-orbed  intelligence  of  the  man,  so 
must  the  cosmical  processes  go  on  to  the  development 
of  the  cosmical  intelligence." 

Jim,  who  had  not  been  thinking  of  these  last 
thoughts,  now  wanted  Mr.  Lesage  to  ask  Mr.  Smith 
how  it  was  that  the  sun,  which  must  be  no  more  than 
a  star,  to  them  should  be  counted  a  god,  and  how  it 
was  that  they  could  exist  in  such  a  hot  region  as  Saturn 
was  known  to  be. 

"The  latter,"  Mr.  Smith  answered,  "is  merely  a 
matter  of  adaptation.  Our  ancient  scientists  had  it 
figured  out  that  owing  to  the  extreme  coldness  of  your 
own  atmosphere  no  life  was  possible  on  your  globe.  So 
you  see  that  these  things  must  be  taken  as  they  are, 
and  not  as  they  should  be.  The  light  of  the  sun,  as 
you  are  well  aware,  is  largely  dependent  on  the  atmos- 
phere. At  mid-day,  the  sun  appears  for  a  few  minutes 
no  larger  than  a  star,  but  its  resplendence,  undoubt- 
edly, is  much  greater,  even  at  that  time,  than  it  is  at 
any  time  to  the  people  of  the  earth.  This  is  owing  to 
the  great  luminosity  of  our  atmosphere.  Again,  owing 
to  the  great  height  of  our  atmosphere,  and  the  conse- 
quent great  refraction  of  the  rays  of  light,  the  sun  as 
soon  as  it  passes  the  meridian  begins  to  grow  larger  in 
appearance,  and  in  a  few  minutes  looks  much  larger  to 
us  than  it  does  to  you.    It  is  by  the  refraction  of  the 


THE  LAST  MESSAGE.  227 

rays  of  light  that  the  sun  appears  larger  at  the  hori- 
zon than  at  the  zenith  of  your  own  globe.  It  is  also 
through  the  refraction  of  the  rays  of  light  by  the  atmos- 
plu  re  that  you  see  the  sun  fifteen  minutes  before  it 
rises  and  for  the  same  time  after  it  sets.  Our  atmos- 
phere being  so  high,  it  is  only  during  the  shortest  days 
of  winter  that  we  have  any  night  at  all.  During  the 
most  of  the  summer  it  does  not  get  dark  before  the 
sun  again  appears  in  the  east.  During  the  longest 
summer  days  we  have  the  sun  rising  in  the  east  before 
it  sets  in  the  west.  Apparently  we  see  the  sun  both  in 
the  east  and  west,  alittle above  the  horizon.  Of  course 
its  true  position  is  antipodal  to  that  which  the  beholder 
occupies  during  the  singular  phenomenon.  Such  un- 
usual refraction  requires  a  high  atmosphere,  a  very 
high  atmosphere." 

After  expressing  a  willingness  to  give  us  exhibitions 
similar  to  the  one  we  had  witnessed,  whenever  we  de- 
sired them,  and  informing  us  that  by  the  success  of 
their  improved  generators  of  electricity,  they  were  no 
longer  dependent  on  natural  currents,  Mr.  Smith  ex- 
cused himself  also  on  the  plea  of  wanting  to  join  in  the 
rejoicings  of  the  occasion. 

The  following  day  it  occurred  to  us  that  Mr.  Smith 
might  be  able  to  clear  away  the  mass  of  stones  that 
barred  the  entrance  to  the  cavern,  by  directing  a  cur- 
rent of  electricity  against  it.  We  ventured  to  call 
Smith  and  make  known  our  wishes.  He  responded 
promptly,  expressing  his  willingness  to  place  himself 
and  the  nation's  electricity  at  our  service.  He  had 
served  his  term  as  a  common  laborer  in  the  industrial 


228  THE  AURORA  PHONE. 

arm  J,  and  had  just  been  promoted  to  the  position 
of  superintendent  of  the  electro -planetary  station,  and 
he  could  now  devote  the  most  of  his  time  to  ns.  "  Any 
work,''  he  said,  ''which  yon  can  give  me  will  be  appre- 
ciated, as  it  enables  me  to  contribute  my  quota  to  the 
world's  work  in  a  manner  most  agreeable  to  myself. 
We  are  not  so  pressed  for  laborers  as  in  the  past,  as 
we  are  again  manufacturing  and  using  many  new  and 
improved  labor-saving  inventions,  but  we  draw  the 
line  at  dummies." 

We  pointed  out  the  place  where  tlie  rock  lay,  and 
without  any  jar  or  disturban(*e.  Smith  soon  had  the 
mass  at  a  glowing  white  heat,  under  which  it  quickly 
crumbled  to  dust.  Then  came  a  puff  and  it  all  disap- 
peared in  a  cloud  of  fine  sand,  borne  away  towards 
the  great  sand  dunes  of  the  San  Luis  Valley.  An  hour 
later,  we  were  exploring  the  cavern  and  to  our  great 
joy  we  found  that  the  opening  through  which  the  water 
flowed  into  the  orchestra  had  been  dammed  up  by  the 
debris  on  the  first  wave  of  the  flood.  The  water  being 
thus  turned  down  the  old  bed  of  the  stream  the  orches- 
tra was  saved.  We  returned  to  the  house,  procured 
crowbars  and  picks,  and  began  a  vigorous  assault  on 
the  rock  and  poles  that  obstructed  the  passage.  We 
had  made  but  a  few  strokes,  however,  when  we  felt 
slight  electrical  shocks,  which  we  immediately  divined 
were  the  observant  Smith's  mode  of  admonishing  us 
to  get  out  of  the  way  and  he  would  do  the  work.  We 
hurriedly  quit  the  spot,  and  Smith  proceeded  to  disin- 
tegrate the  mass  and  a  portion  of  the  roof  of  the 
cavern.    As  they  crumbled  away  the  particles  fell  into 


THE  LAST  MESSAGE.  229 

the  brook,  with  hissing  sounds  and  little  puffs  of  steam, 
and  were  carried  off  by  the  current.    As  the  water  grad- 
ually flowed  into  the  orchestra  chamber  the  music 
swelled  from  low  soft  strains  to  the  full  grand  har- 
monies of   old.    Our  happiness  was   complete.    Our 
next  step,  however,  was  to  add  to  it.    We  returned  to 
the  outer  world,  ascended  to  the  hole  made  by  the  elec- 
trical current  through  the  roof  of  the  cave,  and  marked 
out  a  half  circle  by  setting  up  stones  a  few  feet  apart. 
The  space  so  described  contained  about  an  acre,  and 
overlooked  the  valley  to  the  east.    On  returning  to  the 
house  we  auroraphoned  Smith  to  clear  out  that  part 
of  the  mountain  described  by  the  stones  to  alevel  with 
the  stream  which  flowed  through  the  cavern,  explain- 
ing that  we  wanted  the  excavation  as  an  audience 
chamber  from  which  to  witness  the  exhibitions  he  had 
so  kindly  promised  us,  and  at  the  same  time  be  enabled 
to  enjoy  the  music  of  the  orchestra.    We  also  described 
the  orchestra,  and  asked  him  to  throw  the  scenes  in 
the  valley  east  of  the  auditorium. 

Smith  assured  us  that  we  should  find  everything  as 
we  wished  it  when  we  repaired  to  the  place  that  even- 
ing to  witness  the  spectacular  entertainment.  He  fur- 
ther advised  us  to  make  out  a  program  fromthegreat 
events  and  scenes  of  the  world .  We  selected  the  battles 
of  Waterloo,  lUinker's  Hill,  and  Shiloh;  Niagara  Falls, 
Yosemite,  scenes  on  the  Rhine,  the  Alhambra  by  moon- 
light, and  London  by  gaslight.  This  i)rogramme  was 
forwarded  to  Smith  with  the  request  that  he  begin  at 
8  o'clock  sharp,  and  would  he  please  liave  the  man  at 
the  crank  turn  a  little  slower.    Smit  h,  of  course,  con- 


230  THE  ArnniiAPHnXE. 

sented.  Smith,  beyond  doubt,  was  a  good  fellow  ;  not 
a  bit  like  old  Bozy  — but  there,  Mi-.  Bozar  was  all 
right  in  his  way— indeed,  a  very  excellent  man  in 
his  way. 

On  repairing  to  the  anditorinni  early  in  the  even- 
ing, we  found  a  great  surprise  awaiting  us.  Instead  of 
the  excavated  half-circle  with  the  open  sky  overhead, 
which  we  thought  would  be  so  fine,  a  vast  and  mag- 
niincent  hall  received  us.  The  electrical  current  had  not 
been  applied  perpendicularly,  but  in  such  a  way  that  a 
splendid  room  had  been  hollowed  out  of  the  solid  rock. 
Two  rows  of  great  gleaming  columns,  connected  later- 
ally by  massive  arches,  had  been  left  to  support  the 
high  vaulted  roof.  The  shafts  of  the  columns  were 
highly  polished,  and  dazzlingly  white;  the  capitals  were 
of  new  design,  but  highly  artistic  and  pleasing  to  the 
sight;  the  base  of  each  column  was  of  a  tint  wholly 
unlike  anything  we  had  ever  seen,  but  in  exquisite  har- 
mony with  the  pure  white  of  the  shafts,  and  the  superb, 
though  strange  tint  of  the  beautiful  arabesque  work 
that  carpeted  the  floor.  Between  elaborately  carved 
panels  on  the  walls,  and  directly  opposite  to  each 
other,  great  spaces  had  been  polished  to  a  brilliancy 
far  exceeding  the  best  French-plate  mirrors.  Tliese, 
under  the  powerful  but  subdued  light  that  came  fioni 
a  richly  chased  chandelier  pending  from  the  (le(^})ly 
frescoed  ceiling,  reflected  back,  seemingly,  for  miles  and 
miles  the  grandeurs  of  the  apartment.  By  the  right 
application  of  electricity,  the  electro-magical  Smith 
could  reduce  the  surrounding  stone  to  dust,  or  reflne 
it  to  the  hardness  and  transparency  of  crystal,  the 


THE  LAST  MESSAGE.  231 

solidity  of  marble,  the  strength  of  steel,  the  lustre  of 
gold.  The  arch  of  the  opening  through  which  we 
looked  upon  the  valley  beyond  was  sup])orted  by  two 
glistening  columns,  of  crystal  purity,  so  clear  tliat  they 
in  nowise  interfered  with  the  view.  Here,  where  the  eye 
would  oftenest  drink  in  their  beauties,  tlie  ornamenta- 
tion and  coloring  surpassed  belief.  The  electrical  tint- 
ing had  also  been  applied  to  the  tiers  of  couches  wliich 
seated  the  auditorium.  These,  though  of  polished 
stone,  were  of  such  soft  hues  that  we  seemed  to  rest 
upon  down,  as  we  sat  or  reclined  in  their  luxurious 
depths,  A  pleasant  warmth  suffused  the  room,  and  the 
music  of  the  orchestra  came  in  sweeter  cadences  by 
some  acoustic  principle  employed  by  the  electrical 
arcliitect.  It  seemed  that  every  sense  must  be  satis- 
fied, and  yet  we  were  impatiently  awaiting  the  first  act 
on  the  programme— anxious  for  the  stirring  scenes  of 
war— eager  to  turn  from  passive  magnificence  to  wit- 
ness men  contending  with  shot  and  shell  for  a  princi- 
ple, suppressing  wrong  and  tyranny  at  the  point  of  the 
bayonet,  purchasing  homes  and  liberty  with  the  blood 
of  heroes  slain. 

It  was  yet  some  minutes  till  8,  and  we  busied  our- 
selves scanning  the  marvelous  workmanship  of  the  place 
awed  into  silence  by  the  splendor  of  our  surroundings. 
Suddeidy  a  "deep  sound  strikes  like  a  rising  knell!" 
We  looked  out,  but  merely  to  see  the  stars  twinkling 
peacefully,  far  away  sentinels  of  the  night.  Again  we 
turned  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  warmth  and  the  brill- 
iancy and  the  music  that  ''rose  with  voluptuous 
swell." 


232  THE  AURORAPHOXE. 

"But,  hark  I  that  heavy  sound  breaks  in  once  more, 
And  nearer,  clearci-,  dcadhci-  than  before!" 

We  turned  to  the  opening,  and  now  the  famous  bat- 
tle field  lay  before  us,  Brussels  in  the  foroground.  We 
.ooked,  just  as  the  cry  rang  out  through  tlio  reveling 
capital— 

"  Arm !  Arm  !  "    It  was  the  cannon's  opening  roar." 

And  then  we  beheld  and  heard 

"The  mounting  in  hot  liasto;  the  st(M^d, 
The  mustering  squadron,  and  the  clattering  car,  that 
Went  pouriufi;  forward  with  impetuous  speed, 
And  swiftly  forminji;  in  the  ranks  of  war; 
And  the  deep  thnndcn-  peal  on  peal  afar." 

Apparently  ten  miles  distant  from  "  Belgium's  cap- 
ital," could  be  seen  the  smoke  of  Napoleon's  guns 
opening  on  the  English.  Imperceptibly  the  scene 
shifted,  bringing  the  plain  of  Waterlo(^  to  the  fore- 
ground. The  battle  moved  slowly  and  majesticall3^ 
We  were  enabled  to  see  every  manoeuvre.  We  could 
heiir  the  battle  cries  and  death  groans.  We  could  see 
the  flash  of  the  combatants'  eyes,  hear  the  clinking  of 
the  sabers  of  Milhaud's  cuirassiers.  There  was  the  num 
of  Marengo,  dispacching  Generals  Domont  and  Suber- 
vic  to  investigate  a  body  of  troops  that  had  appeared 
in  the  direction  of  St.  Lambert;  there  was  the  "Iron 
Duke,"  under  the  great  elm  in  front  of  the  old  mill  of 
Mont  Sahit  Jean,  with  telescope  in  hand,  watching  the 
movements  of  his  opponents— the  one  ambitious  to  con- 
quer the  world,  th3  other  serving  his  government,  aye, 
defending  English  homes.    We  knew,  of  course,  that 


THE  LAST  MESSAGE.  238 

Wellington  stood  for  the  right,  and  rejoiced  as  the  en- 
gagement began,  that  the  right  was  that  day  to 
triumph  over  selfish  ambition;  but  the  action  was  so 
vivid ,  true  in  every  detail  to  the  original,th«^  belligerents 
so  real,  l^ie  two  champions  so  life-like,  that  we  soon 
felt  the  personal  magnetism  of  Europe's  greatest  mili- 
tary genius— the  great  Napoleon.  As  the  battle  ap- 
proached its  crisis,  it  was  not  "Blucher  or  night"  that 
we  longed  for,  but  Groucliy  with  reinforcements  for  the 
gallant  little  corporal.  It  was  with  dismay  that  we 
beheld  on  the  heights  beyond  Fricliemont  the  long  line 
of  glistening  bayonets  that  told  us  Blucher  was  at 
hand.  With  consternation  we  witnessed  the  repulse  of 
the  last  heroic  charge  of  the  Imperial  Guard.  With 
deep  sorrow  and  grief  we  watched  the  final  rout  of  the 
Frencli  army  as  it  faded  away  in  the  gloom  of  night, 
hotly  pursued  by  the  relentless  Prussians. 

Almost  regretting  that  we  had  elected  to  see  the 
overthrow  of  the  great  military  chieftain,  we  resigned 
ourselves  to  the  attractions  of  our  royal  palace.  We 
were  surprised  out  of  our  sadness,  in  part,  by  the  trans- 
formation which  had  been  worked  in  the  appearance  of 
the  columns.  Each  one  seemed  draped  with  the  conti- 
nental flag,  the  stars  and  stripes.  Such  was  the  skill 
of  the  artist  that  the  flags  apparently  fell  in  full  flow- 
ing folds  from  capital  to  base.  The  thirteen  stars  of 
each  glowed  as  if  distilled  from  the  patriotic  fires  that 
burned  in  the  hearts  of  the  heroes  of  'TG.  The  in- 
tensity and  lustre  of  the  red,  white  and  blue  spoke  of 
the  glory  of  the  incomparable  battles  fought  in  the 
cause  of  liberty. 


234  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

Presently  the  sound  of  martial  music  saluted  our 
ears.  A  provincial  band,  a  poor  one,  consisting  of  fife 
and  drum,  was  playing  Yankee  Doodle,  and  all 
thoughts  of  Napoleon  were  carried  away  by  the  rising 
tide  of  patriotic  feelings  that  swept  over  us^  Boston 
and  vicinity,  by  starlight,  now  lay  before  us.  The  oc- 
casion of  the  music  was  the  mustering  of  a  body  of 
troops,  probably  one  thousand  men,  which,  as  we 
learned  from  the  orders  given,  were  to  proceed  to 
Bunker  Hill  and  form  an  entrenchment.  The  gallant 
Prescott  led  the  detachment  past  Bunker  Hill  to 
Breed's  Hill.  The  shadowy  forms  quickly  threw  up 
breastworks.  Then  followed  the  rosy  flush  of  dawn 
in  the  east;  the  beams  of  the  rising  sun,  dancing  across 
the  waters  of  the  bay;  the  surprise  of  the  British  at  the 
Americans'  bold  advance;  the  cannonade  from  Copp's 
Hill,  and  the  ships  in  Boston  harbor;  the  two  attempts 
to  storm  the  redoubt;  the  final  successful  assault,  and 
the  retreat  of  our  brave  troops  across  Charlestown 
Neck  to  Prospect  Hill. 

We  were  again  surprised,  but  not  agreeably,  on  di- 
recting our  attention  to  the  decorated  columns,  for 
while  on(^  row  was  still  adorned  with  the  stars  and 
stripes,  to  which  had  been  added  many  stars,  yet  the 
other  row  was  equally  transplendent  with  the  stars 
and  bars.  There  was  none  of  us  but  would  have  pre- 
ferred to  see  some  mark  of  inferiority  in  the  emblems 
of  the  South.  During  the  battle  that  was  now  waged 
our  eyes  frequently  turned  to  the  flags  in  hopes  of  see- 
ing some  diminution  in  the  effulgence  of  the  stars  and 
bars.    But  during  the  remainder  of  the  evening's  en- 


THE  'LAST  MESSAGE.  235 

ter  tain  men  t  they  continued  to  glow  with  a  lustre  equal 
to  our  own  flags.  It  was  2  o'clock  in  the  morning  be- 
fore the  program  was  finished. 

On  the  following  day  we  asked  Smith  concerning 
I  he  flags.  He  answered:  "The  first  flags  I  arranged 
as  I  thought  would  be  most  pleasing  to  yourselves, 
and  so  deferred  to  your  patriotism  as  not  to  display 
the  British  colors  at  all.  In  the  latter  instance  I  sym- 
bolized the  contending  parties  from  our  own  stand- 
point. Can  you  not  see  that  the  rebellion  was  a  neces- 
sity in  the  course  of  progress?  Theoretically  it  is 
pleasanter  to  conceive  of  progress  without  the  neces- 
sity of  these  bloody  eruptions;  but  here  again  things 
must  be  taken  as  they  are,  and  not  as  they  should  be. 
As  rebellions  are  necessary,  so  are  rebels.  The  Confed- 
erates were  fixed  forms — forms  that  must  reappear  at 
every  recurring  cycle,  and  through  which  must  flow  the 
never  ending  stream  of  personalities  which  must 
eventually  carry  your  own  personalities  to  those  forms 
which  you  are  wont  to  regard  with  too  much  bitter- 
ness. Contemplating  the  fact  that  you  must  finally 
animate  those  forms,  is  it  not  better  to  recognize  the 
fact  that  they  fought  with  a  valor  and  bravery  equal 
to  your  own  ?  There  needed  a  fierce  heat  to  forge  cer- 
tain elements  of  national  strength,  and  shall  the  car- 
bon be  deemed  less  than  the  oxygen?  " 

We  changed  the  subject,  and  hastened  to  ask  for 
further  particulars  in  regard  to  their  industrial  system. 
Mr.  Smith  gave  us  many  particulars.  By  subsequent 
inquiries  made  from  time  to  time  we  gained  the  full 
details  of  the  system,  which,  I  am  glad  to  see,  have 


236  THE  AURORAPHOyE\ 

been  presented  in  a  fascinating  work  entitled  "  Look- 
ing Backward." 

Mr.  Lesage,  anticipating  that  great  crowds  would 
throng  to  tlie  mountain  to  hear  and  behold  these 
wonderful  tilings,  when  we  should  have  made  them 
known  to  the  world,  announced  his  intention  to  apply 
electricity  to  the  improvement  of  the  roadway  that  led 
up  to  the  retreat.  There  were  innumerable  hills  to  be 
reduced,  and  as  many  depressions  to  be  filled  up,  and 
the  entire  road  to  be  widened  and  leveled.  The  matter 
was  laid  before  Smith.  He  assured  us  that  it  would  be 
a  great  pleasure  to  himself  and  his  government  to  as- 
sist us  gratuitously  for  a  season,  but  that  later,  when 
the  value  of  their  assistance  should  become  generally 
known,  and  in  view  of  the  demands  that  would  be  made 
on  them,  they  would  exact  payment  from  the  nations 
of  earth  for  all  services  rendered.  This,  it  seemed  to 
us,  made  it  useless  to  expect  any  national  advantages 
from  our  discovery,  for  how  could  the  people,  individ- 
ually or  collectively,  do  anything  for  the  inhabitants 
of  the  far  away  planet?  We  had  been  selfishly  con- 
gratulating ourselves  on  the  fact  that  while  we  should 
reap  great  benefits  from  Saturn,  it  was  impossible  for 
us  to  make  any  return.  Smith  explained,  sa3'ing: 
"Should  we  blind  ourselves  to  everything  but  the  pres- 
ent, it  would  also  seem  to  us  impossible  for  you  to 
make  any  return.  But  knowing  that  we  must  finally 
tenant  the  miserable  forms  that  we  see  throughout  the 
nations  of  earth,  it  is  very  plain  that  you  can  assist 
us  by  assisting  them.  It  is  humanity  that  we  ask  in 
return  for  what  we  shall  give.     You  will  ask  why  we 


THE  LAST  MESSAGE.  237 

do  not  help  the  sufferers  directly,  as  it  is  in  our  power 
to  do.  But  that  would  be  at  the  expense  of  your  na- 
tion's growth  in  morality  and  sympathy.  Besides, 
without  the  nation's  help  and  support,  there  are 
among  you  the  strong-handed  and  keen-witted  that 
would  immediately  wrest  the  benefits  from  those  for 
whom  they  are  intended.  True,  we  might  smite  these 
latter;  but  this  again  is  not  in  accordance  with  the 
best  morality." 

After  the  manner  of  those  who  have  more  regard 
for  the  present  than  the  future,  we  deferred  the  serious 
consideration  of  these  thoughts  to  some  other  time, 
and  warned  our  obliging  genie  out  on  the  road.  That 
afternoon  Smith  was  out  working  the  road,  and  a 
splendid  w^orkman  he  proved.  It  would  take  some 
time  to  put  the  road  in  good  order,  and  road  building 
became  our  regular  work  for  a  few  weeks.  Even  with 
Smith's  assistance  it  required  a  great  deal  of  work  on 
our  part  in  planning,  surveying  and  trudging  back  and 
forth.  It  was  a  great  stimulus  to  us  to  see  the  rapid 
progress  we  made.  To  behold  the  broad,  even  road 
that  resulted  from  our  joint  exertions,  extending  itself 
a  full  half  mile  a  day,  made  our  labor  a  pleasure,  so 
that  in  the  evenings  we  were  never  too  tired  to  enjoy 
the  novel  entertainments  that  Smith  nightly  gave  us. 
On  going  to  the  auditorium  the  second  evening  we 
found  that  a  great  space  which  had  been  left  in  the 
front  portion  unseated  had  been  lowered,  bringing  it 
much  below  tlie  lev<^l  of  the  lake.  A  beautiful  fountain, 
a  marvelous  ('oml)ination  of  gold,  alabaster  and 
sparkling  waters,  now  flashed   back  the  light  of  the 


238  THE  AURORAPHOSE. 

chandelier.  A  great  pool  of  clearest  water,  fed  by  a 
miniature  cascade,  surrounded  the  fountain.  Encir- 
cling the  pool  was  a  wide  border  with  a  rich  garniture 
of  grass,  delicate  flowers,  shrubs  and  a  few  ornamental 
trees.  That  these  were  all  the  result  of  Smith's  art  in 
stone-work,  made  them  none  the  less  pleasing  to  the 
eye.  From  such  surroundings  we  studied  the  great 
events  of  history,  or  drank  in  the  beauties  of  nature's 
greatest  masterpieces,  as  presented  to  our  view  by  the 
Electro-Camera-Lucida-Motophone. 

Thus  pleasantly  employed,  the  days  went  by  like 
hours,  and  before  we  knew  it  the  two  months' vacation 
had  nearly  expired.  Absorbed  in  our  work  we  had 
given  the  Pardees  hardly  a,  thought  all  this  time.  The 
road  was  about  completed,  and  everything  would  be 
in  readiness  to  receive  the  public  about  the  time  we 
should  start  for  home.  We  had  yet  four  days  inw^hich 
to  take  leave  of  Mr.  Smith,  Mr.  Lesage,  and  the  Par- 
dees.  We  had  returned  from  a.  most  enjoyable  evening 
at  the  auditorium,  and  were  discussing  our  early  de- 
parture next  morning,  when  we  were  "called"  from 
Saturn,  and  to  our  consternation  the  auroraphone 
clicked:  ''Mr.  Bozar  heard  from.  It  appears  that  he 
escaped  the  dummies,  and  in  the  unsettled  times  fol- 
lowing the  revolt,  had  accepted  a  position  with  a  for- 
eign nati  'U.  He  has  lately  read  an  account  of  our  re- 
newed communications  and  hastened  to  inform  our 
government  that  such  communications  are  illegal,  and 
must  be  immediately  suppressed ;  that  the  nature  of 
the  offense  that  our  nation  receiv^ed  from  the  people  of 
earth  will  not  admit  of  explanation  or  pardon;  that 


THE  LAST  MESSAGE.  239 

he  had  once  destroyed  your  instrument,  and  that  any 
other  that  you  may  have  constructed  must  also  be 
destroyed.  Our  government,  I  regret  to  say,  has  or- 
dered me  toannihikiteyour  ^auroraphone,'  and  I  must 
obey.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  grieved  I  am  at  this,  and, 
just  between  ourselves,  I  honestly  wish  the  dummies 
had  done  for  Bozar  while  they  were  at  it.  Profit  by 
what  you  have  learned,  and  ever  remember  me  as  a 
friend.  John  Smith.'' 

A  few  moments  later  there  was  a  terrific  crash,  and 
we  knew  the  auroraphone  was  no  more. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  SUBSTANTIAL    APPAKITION. 

With  the  first  light  of  morning  we  were  out  inspect- 
ing the  damage  which  had  been  worked  by  the  electric 
bolt.  The  auroraphone,  auditorium  and  orchestra 
had  been  completely  demolished.  Never  again  should 
we  hear  the  swelling  chords  of  that  grand  natural  or- 
chestra. Never?  No,  not  never.  In  the  course  of  the 
cycles  we  should  again  listen  entranced  to  the  divine 
music  it  had  so  freely  discoursed.  Yes,  and  we  should 
again  witness  the  grand  scenes  which  Smith  had  been 
reproducing  for  us.  We  had  also  had  a  glimpse  of  the 
wonders  of  Saturn,  a  foretaste  of  what  we  might  ex- 
pect when  in  the  progress  of  the  soul,  or  personality,  it 
reached  the  organisms  that  people  Saturn.  ^Ve  could 
begin  to  vaguely  realize  the  complexity  and  magnifi- 
cence of  the  life  in  the  older  and  grander  systems  that 
studded  the  universe,— life  that  must  eventually  be 
ours  also.  Existence  was  a  stupendous  thing.  AVe 
were  not  to  pass  from  time  to  eternity  when  this  life 
ended ;  we  were  already  in  eternity  to  pass  in  the  de- 
scending scale  of  permutation  from  degradation  to 
degradation,  and  to  pass  in  the  ascending  scale  from 
grandeur  to  grandeur,  both  of  character  and  phy- 
sical surroundings. 

We  returned  to  the  house  and  made  preparations 

240  , 


A  SUBSTANTIAL  APPARIITON.  241 

for  immediate  departure.  It  was  sad,  indeed,  to  leave 
Mr.  Lesagejust  after  thedestiuction  of  his  instrument 
and  the  blasting  of  his  bright  dreams  of  the  pleasure 
and  instruction  which  the  world  was  to  receive  through 
his  scicntitic  experiments.  He  was  very  cheerful,  how- 
ever, considering  everything,  and  if  he  regretted  the 
loss  of  Smith  and  his  electricity  more  than  our  de- 
parture, he  disguised  it  admirably,  and  we  bid  him 
adieu  feeling  that  t  he  old  gentleman  was  greatly  grieved 
to  see  us  depart. 

Thanks  to  Smith  we  had  a  splendid  road,  and  our 
journey  down  the  mountain  was  made  with  more  speed 
and  comfort  than  usual. 

A  day  with  the  Tardees,  and  we  were  ready  for  the 
home  trip.  Rose  and  Mel,  to  judge  from  their  cheerful 
demeanor,  had  hit  upon  some  compromise,  though  I 
half  suspected  that  their  high  spirits  were  affected  to 
disguise  the  sadness  of  parting.  I  watched  Rose  care- 
fully to  learn,  if  possible,  whether  they  had  come  to  an 
understanding  or  not.  Mel,  since  I  had  endeavored  to 
persuade  him  from  his  path  of  duty,  as  he  regarded  it, 
had  grown  very  taciturn,  and  I  could  not  elicit  even  a 
hint  from  him  as  to  the  true  state  of  affairs.  It  was 
evident  from  the  extreme  sadness  of  Rose's  countenance 
in  unguarded  moments  that  thecourseof  truelove  was 
as  turbulent  in  their  case  as  in  all  others. 

The  Pardees  accompanied  us  to  the  station  to  see 
us  off.  Several  of  our  mountaineer  friends  had  also 
assembled  at  the  station  in  honor  of  the  occasion. 
Among  these  was  one  whom  we  had  not  seen  since  he 
rode  away  after  telling  us  the  story  of  the  Lovers' 

16 


242  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

Pool— "Bill  Mundy,  Esq."  He  was  overjoyed  to  see 
us,  and  we  were  equally  deli^ht(  d  to  see  him.  Mr. 
Mundy,  according  to  report,  had  beeomea  model  man. 
He  was  a  law  abiding  citizen,  a  member  of  the  school 
board,  and  anti-pugilistic  to  a  severe  degree,  i'oroneof 
his  pugnacious  temperament. 

Our  train  was  an  hour  late,  and  the  west  bound  ex- 
press came  in  while  we  were  waiting.  Five  passengers 
got  off — a  gentleman  and  lady,  and  three  children. 
The  gentleman  and  lady  were  at  once  recognized  as 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moses  Skein,  who,  after  so  many  years, 
had  concluded  to  forget  the  past,  and  had  come  back 
to  surprise  Jennie's  brother  and  his  wife  with  a  friendly 
visit.  Never  dreaming  but  that  Mr.  Mundy  had  learned 
of  their  escape  from  drowning  in  the  pool,  nothing  had 
been  said  to  him  about  Mose  and  Jennie  in  the  few  mo- 
ments' conversation  we  had  had  with  him.  Hehadnot 
learned  of  it,  however,  and  at  tii-st  he  was  the  picture 
of  fright— terribly  scared  at  what  he  took  to  be  appari- 
tions. Then  as  it  was  hurriedly  explained  to  him  that 
Mose  and  Jennie  had  not  drowned  themselves,  the  sup- 
pressed warlike  tendencies  that  had  been  accumulating 
all  these  years  began  to  flare  up.  The  means  employed 
in  his  conversion,  he  hotly  (concluded,  constituted 
a  gigantic  fraud,  and  he  proposed  to  have  revenge  on 
the  perpetrator  forthwith.  "The  sneaking,  white- 
livered,  lying  cuss,"  he  furiously  exclaimed,  "to  play 
ghost  on  an  old  friend,  and  ma  ke  him  believe  in  speerets 
and  angels,  and  that  he  must  be  awful  good,  or  get 
everlastingly  roasted.  By  the  etarnal,  I'll  larnhim  to 
play  ghost  on  me.    I'll  maul  him  for  every  mother's 


A  SriiSTAXTIAL  M'PARITION,  24;{ 

son  h(>"8  clK^aled  me  out'er licking; for  these  ten  years, " 
and  despite  the  many  hands  put  out  to  detain  him,  the 
sinewy  Hercules  strode  toward  Skein  with  clenched  fists 
and  flasliing  eyes.  Skein,  whose  muscular  proportions 
indicated  that  he  was  fully  capable  of  defending  him- 
self, stood  p.Tplexed  and  half  anmscd  at  his  old  friend's 
unreasonable  rai^e.  Mundy,  burning  with  the  desire 
to  pulverize  him,  precipitated  himself  with  the  fury  of 
a  mad  bull  against  Skein,  or  rather  against  his  fist, 
for  Mose  had  laun(^hed  that  useful  member  squarely 
between  Mundy's  eyes,  and  the  latter  measured  his 
length  on  the  station  platform.  He  raised  himself  to 
a  sitting  posture,  remarking:  ''It's  powerful  sartin 
you  ain't  no  ghost  now."  Several  laughed,  and 
Mundy  continued,  as  he  raised  to  his  feet:  "This  air 
a  durned  funny  thing,  and  no  mistake.  Guess  I  ort  to 
be  laughed  at.  and  I  begin  ter  see  the  fun  of  it  myself. 
There's  no  one  as  can  say  that  sense  can't  be  pounded 
inter  Bill  Mundj-'s  head,  and  1  reck'n  Mose  's  got  er 
fust-class  certificate  for  teaching  that  way.  Shake 
hands,  Mose,  and  I  agrees  right  here  to  stay  converted, 
ghosts  or  no  ghosts." 

Deeply  interested  in  these  proceedings,  we  had  hardly 
noticed  that  our  train  was  in.  The  bell  was  clanging, 
and  the  conductor's  "All  aboard!"  warned  us  to 
hurry.  We  had  no  time  for  farewells,  and  with  a  wave 
of  our  hands  from  the  rear  platform  of  the  sleeper  we 
bid  adieu  to  our  mountain  friends. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

«  HAPPILY  EVER  AFTER." 

My  companions  accompanied  me  to  my  home  in 
Kansas,  hut  finding  little  to  interest  them  in  the  city 
of  departed  greatness,  they  pushed  on  in  a  few  days  to 
their  homes  in  the  east. 

My  health  had  been  wonderfully  improved  in  the 
mountains,  and  following  my  cousin's  advice,  I  settled 
up  my  affairs  as  soon  as  possible,  and  at  1:20  a.m., 
the  fashionable  liour  for  departing  from  the  city,  Is  bole 
out  of  the  place  with  a  grip  and  a  sigh — the  total  as- 
sets of  six  years'  financial  operations  in  the  West— a 
victim,  not  of  Kansas,  but  of  my  own  cupidity  and  in- 
experience. I  returned  to  Colorado  Springs.  It  was 
at  the  latter  place  that  I  received  the  following  letter 
from  Mel : 

,  Kansas,  Nov.  5,  1889. 

Mr.  S.  I.  Kfirhun, 

Dkar  (Jousin  :— Yours  of  Oct.  Int  at  hand.  1  was  jjlad 
to  learn  of  your  migration  to  the  Springs,  and  am  confident 
that  you  will  never  regret  it. 

I  am  at  work,  and  gaining  a  good  practice  in  my  new 
location.  Since  you  acted  so  ])romptly  on  my  advice,  1  could 
not  do  otherwise  than  act  u])on  yours.  thou,a:h,  as  you  had 
such  a  beautiful  and  eloquent  s(H-oiid  in  Rose  Pardee,  ])<'r- 
haps  I  shouldn't  give  you  all  the  ci'edit.  1  had  concluded 
that  there  was  no  other  course  hut  to  follow  your  counsel 
and  bepjin  ]ira,ctice  with  the  intention  of  takinji;  a  vacation 
next  fall  to  get  married.  Having  fully  determined  on  this, 
I  at  once  informed  Rose  by  letter  of  my  capitulation.    Rose, 

^44 


''HAPPILY  EVER  AFTER.''  245 

to  my  surprise,  expressed  her  willingness  to  marry  me  imme- 
diately if  1  still  insisted.  As  I  had  hem  insistinf>-  so  long, 
I  was  fearful  of  again  showing  any  haste.  1  l(>ft  it  to  Rose 
to  name  the  day,  suggesting  Cliristmas  as  my  ])reference. 
Rose  consented  on  condition  that  our  weddingtrip  should  be 
nothing  more  than  a  journey  to  our  home  here  in  Kansas, 
as  she  couldn't  think  of  my  leaving  my  jjatients  for  more 
than  a  few  days.  You  must  excuse  me  for  dwi^lling  so  long 
on  my  own  affairs,  but  the  occasion  is  one  of  a  lifetime,  and 
you  will  make  allowances,  I  am  sure. 

1  suppose  you  are  still  a  ])ermutationist,  as  I  shall  have 
to  call  you.  I  must  confess  that  the  more  I  think  of  the  In- 
dustrial Army  system,  the  niorc  fully  I  am  convinced  that  it 
affords  the  only  solution  of  the  labor  jn-oblem.  It  would  be 
a  grand  thing,  imh^Hl,  if  the  peoi)lc  of  the  Tnitcd  States 
could  bring  themselves  to  adopt  it,  and  thus  lead  the  world 
in  the  grand  reform.  I  must  concede  that  the  greatest  ob- 
stacle^ is  the  deep-rooted  injustice  that  has  been  fostered  by 
the  current  religion.  If  our  civiUzation  is  a  Thristian  civil- 
ization, tlien  it  can  no  longer  be  denied  that  injustice  is  an 
outgrowth,  to  some  extent,  of  our  ])opular  creeds.  I  very 
much  doubt  if  a  people  so  influenced  by  our  religion  will 
readily  adopt  a  system  so  ])re-eniiTiently  consistent  with  jus- 
tice as  the  Creetan's  Industrial  System.  Hence,  I  begin  to 
feel  the  need  t)f  a  religion  of  greater  justice,  and  I  suppose 
that  in  looking  about  for  a  more  just  religion  we  need  not  stop 
short  of  that  religion  of  complete  justice  founded  on  the  per- 
mutation of  personality.  Do  not  think  that  I  am  repudi- 
ating the  faith  that  has  so  long  been  my  strength  and  con- 
solation. It  is  only  when  I  get  to  thinking  and  reasoning 
d<>ei)ly  on  these  subjects  that  1  feel  any  misgivings  about  the 
old  faith,  and,  as  you  know,  our  religion  does  not  favor  the. 
habit  of  i-easoning  often  or  i)iofoundly  in  an  independent 
way,  so  it  is  but  seldom  that  I  a.m  troubled  with  doubts. 

Your  health  ]iermitting,  do  not  fail  to  be  ju'esent  at  my 
wedding.  I  shall  send  you  cards  later.  I  trust  your  health 
is  still  imi)roving,  and  I  sincerely  hope  that  you  have  over- 
come that  foolish  whim  of  dying  a.  celibate.  You  failed  to 
answer  my  last  letter,  but  knowing  how  busy  you  are  in 
writing  U])  our  ti-ip,  I  have  overlooked  it  this  time,  but  should 
it  occur  again,  thei-e  will,  probably,  be  an  affaii-  between  us 
with  a  monkey-wrench  and  bit,  and  considering  our  skill 
with  those  wea])ons,  fatal  results  to  both  ])rincipals  may  be 
predicted.     Hoping  to  hear  from  you  soon, 

I  remain,  yours  truly, 

Mklvin  Simmonh. 


246  THE  AURORAPHONE. 

A  few  clays  later  I  received  the  wedding  card,  and 
what  was  my  surprise  to  read : 

31Ct.   awb  9ltz^a.    "^WiWiavM.  ^iatla/nh 

prede-wc*    at    tfv*    »Haxrvaq«    o|    tfxciz    ^auq^ttcx 

S'iode    cKaxla-wb, 

to 

9lieit)tM.    Si'vn*M.O'W», 

^We^vK-e^ai,^,  '3)cc«.i4i^6«.^  'J0vu«'nt'y-|t|t^, 

"Svuc  o'c^ocft,   2.    m., 

1889. 

Mr.  Harland's  farm  joined  Mr.  Simmons',  and  Rose 
Harlan  d  I  had  known  ever  since  she  was  a  wee  babe.  It 
was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that  she  and 
Mel  should  fall  in  love  with  each  other,  and  Mel  could 
never  have  doubted  that  I  knew  whom  he  meant  when 
he  spoke  of  Rose  as  his  affianced  wife.  He  had  shared 
his  troubles  with  Rose  Pardee,  and  she,  too,  had  ad- 
vised him  as  I  had.  "What  then,"  I  asked  myself, 
''could  have  been  the  cause  of  Rose's  tears  and  sad- 
ness ?  "  Not  simply  her  affection  for  me,  though  I  was 
now  convinced  that  Rose  had  given  me  her  love.  No, 
it  was  the  humiliation  of  having  revealed  that  love, 
only  to  have  it  received  with  apparent  indifference  and 
disdain. 

I  lost  no  time  in  writing  Rose,  giving  her  a  full  ac- 
count of  my  mistake  in  regard  to  her  and  Mel,  assur- 
ing her  that  whether  I  was  right  or  wrong  in  suppos- 
ing that  she  loved  me,  I  was  hopelessly  in  love  with 
her— hopelessly,  because  I  could  never  bring  myself  to 


''HAPPILY  EVER  AFTER.'  '  247 

burden  her  with  the  care  of  an  invalid  husband .  8he 
was  young,  handsome,  vvealth}^  and  some  good  and 
worthy  man  must  soon  win  her  love.  I  could  not 
prove  my  love  for  her  better  than  in  thus  giving  her  up. 
I  should  prove  recreant  to  the  religion  1  professed  if  I 
hesitated  to  do  my  plain  duty,  as  laid  down  in  that 
religion,  which  enforced  consideration  for  the  best  wel- 
fare of  others.  Consideration  for  her  welfare  left  me  no 
other  course  than  to  protect  her  from  the  annoyances 
that  would  inevitably  attend  a  matrimonial  alliance 
with  one  of  my  irascibility  and  carping  disposition. 

Rose  answered,  frankly  confessing  that  she  had 
loved  me,  and  that  no  words  could  tell  the  humiliation 
she  had  experienced  for  having  so  boldly  intimated  it, 
when  she  came  to  realize  that  I  only  desjnsedherforit, 
as  my  actions  seemed  to  imply.  She  could  easily  un- 
derstand how  1  had  made  the  mistake,  and  she  appre- 
ciated my  self-renunciation  while  1  thought  she  loved 
another,  but  she  had  no  sympathy  for  my  present 
sacrificial  spirit.  If  the  world  was  progressing,  as  she 
believed  it  was,  there  should  come  a  time  when  one 
could  be  true  to  his  religion  without  becoming  a 
fanatic,  b'anaticism  had,  beyond  doubt,  been  neces- 
sary in  the  past,  at  an  earlier  stage  of  development, 
but  she  hoped  and  believed  that  that  time  was  past. 
She  thought  that  1  over-estimated  my  faults,  though 
she  was  willing  to  admit  that  I  did  have  some.  There 
was  no  denying  that  I  was  over-sensitive,  too  exact- 
ing, and,  perhai)s,  more  peevish  than  I  should  be.  (I 
began  to  doubt  it  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  and 
as  I  read    over   the    list    the    second    time    I    de- 


248  THE  AUROItAPHONK 

nied  it  outright.)  But  if  she  was  willing  to  assume 
the  responsibility  of  an  invalid  husband,  she  was 
twenty-two,  and  ought  to  know  what  she  was  doing. 
I  surely  could  not  doubt  the  depth  of  her  affection,  on 
the  plea  of  her  being  a  fortune  hunter.  One  of  my 
faults,  she  thought,  was  wanting  to  be  coaxed,  a  pecu- 
liarity of  children  and  invalids,  and  she  would  again 
risk  a  criticism  of  her  womanliness,  and  humor  my 
whim,  by  begging  me  to  reconsider  the  matter,  and  be 
reasonable. 

I  surrendered,  and  was  "reasonable,"  as  Rose 
counted  reasonableness.  It  was  not  the  grand,  heroic 
thing  to  do.  True,  my  health  had  greatly  improved, 
but  not  to  an  extent  that  made  my  capitulation  con- 
sistent with  the  high  moral  ideal  of  the  religion  of  per- 
mutation. But  before  judging  me  harshly,  remember 
that  my  religion,  making  celibacy  in  my  case  such  an 
imperative  duty,  had  none  of  that  hereditary  force 
that  so  materially  aids  the  devotee  of  the  older  re- 
ligions. Converts  to  a  faith  are  prone  to  think  before 
their  (-onversion,  that  when  they  do  accept  it  they  will 
never  violate  one  of  its  rules  or  precepts.  But  once 
accepted,  they  soon  come  to  regard  it  as  no  indication 
of  their  insincerity,  that  they  repeatedly  fall  in  the  path 
of  duty,  so  hard  is  it  to  make  our  lives  conform  to 
our  ideals.  It  must  not  be  charged  against  my  re- 
ligion that  I  so  soon  fell  short  of  its  requirements.  It 
will  take  time  to  get  that  clear  realization  of  the  full 
import  of  the  permutation  of  personality  to  make  it  a 
moral  power.  But  the  mere  thought  that  we  may 
eventually  have  to  stand  in  the  place  of  others— that 


''HAPPILY  EVER  AFTER.''  249 

as  we  do  unto  others  so  will  we  bo  done  by— will  go  far 
toward  exciting  a  broader  sympathy  for  humanity. 
Permutation  surely  foreshadows  the  inauguration  of 
a  social  system  of  justice  and  equality,  and  already  its 
spirit  moveth  upon  the  hearts  of  mankind,  and  must 
lead  on  to  complete  triumph  over  selfishness,  igno- 
rance* and  crime.  I  see  it  moving  on  to  such  a  glorious 
consummation,  accelerating  its  speed  at  every  advance 
forward;  now  scintillating  broadcast  the  bright 
sparks  of  honesty,  justice  and  sobriety,  then  in  still 
broader  circles  radiating  the  warm  beams  of  faith,  of 
love,  of  charity;  again,  it  expands  into  a  thousand 
beautiful  virtues  of  which  the  ear  hath  not  heard,  nor 
the  mind  of  man  conceived  ;  still  widening  in  its  sweep, 
it  gathers  all  mankind  into  a  loving  brotherhood,  and 
bears  them  forward  on  the  broad,  bright  pinions  of  the 
liberty  of  thought  and  the  knowledge  of  immortality, 
till  midst  the  brilliancy  of  blazing  eternal  truths,  and 
the  mighty  thunders  of  a,  world's  anthem  of  jubilee, 
all  are  enveloped  in  the  glorioup  halo  of  the  long  her- 
alded millennium. 


THE   END 


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